Drabble Dabbles : DHr
by MiHnn
Summary: An ongoing collection of drabbles and one-shots based on Draco and Hermione. Various ratings, various lengths, written for various reasons and marked as complete (just because).
1. Drabbles 2010

**A/N - Written for the DMHG Challenge on LiveJournal in 2010. All drabbles are 100 words in length.  
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**1.**

**August l Prompt : need**

**Title:** A Helpless Loss.

**Rating:** G

**Warnings:** Character death.

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Draco stayed still, unmoving. His gaze falling on the spectators around the coffin. Around his mother. The rain blurred his vision. The starless night seemed to match his soul.

He felt her as she moved towards him, the damp ground scrunching beneath her feet. She reached for his hand tentatively; her fingers warm against his cold skin. He let go, her touch burning him with what he'd lost.

With a sad sigh, she turned to leave. He grabbed her hand to stop her, his eyes closing in defeat. He couldn't do this, not without Hermione.

She stayed.

And he cried.

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**2**.

**October l Prompt : pumpkin**

**Title:** Competitive Streaks

**Rating:** G

**Warnings:** None

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"A pumpkin carving contest that will encourage 'healthy' competition? We all know everyone will cheat and use magic. Don't you think, Harry?"

"Hermione-"

"Look at this for example." She bent down to inspect the vegetable, ignoring the surprised student standing beside it, carving knife in hand. "It's not too bad. The mouth looks scary, but the eyes could use more work." Sighing, she picked it up. "I suppose it would have to do."

"Granger! What-"

"Come on, Harry." She strutted away, Potter following apologetically.

Draco stood dumbfounded for a moment before he finally found his voice. "Oi! That's _my_ pumpkin."

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**3.**

**November l Prompt : waiting**

**Title:** A Needed Ultimatum

**Rating:** G

**Warnings:** None

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"It's either_ him_ or _me_," he growled, his tone deadly.

"_Don't-_" She was shaking, tears prickling her eyes. "Don't make me choose. Please, Draco."

"You can't keep _doing_ this to me. You can't keep me on your leash like some bloody dog, waiting-"

"I'm not!"

"Aren't you?" he snapped.

She recoiled. "I never meant-"

"No one does. Grow up, Granger. Make your choice."

"I- I _can't._"

His eyes hardened. "I think you have."

"No. I-"

He stepped forward, grabbing her arms painfully. "Then come _with me_."

_She can't leave him. She couldn't. She-_

But, he was _pleading._

"Okay," she whispered.

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**4.**

**December l Prompt : gift**

**Title:** A Different Kind of Gift

**Rating**: G

**Warnings:** None

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Hermione stared, dumbfounded. "Is this a joke?"

"Not at all. You _did_ want quality time with Weasel and Pothead as a gift."

Her eyes narrowed. "These are blow up dolls."

"With an uncanny resemblance, I might add. One of them even has a scar."

Glaring menacingly, she marched to their bedroom and slammed the door shut.

Draco winced before he felt a light tug on his sleeve, and looked down.

"Now?" the boy asked.

"As long as she's mad at me, you're safe." Draco nudged him. "Go tell her what you did."

Honestly, the things he'd do for his son.

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	2. Joining A Granger Family Christmas

**A/N - Written for the Christmas Challenge 2010 at Dramione Drabbles on Live Journal. **

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**Prompts : **Reindeer and devious kiss.

**Title :** Joining A Granger Family Christmas

**Rating :** PG

**Word Count :** 1169

**Notes/Warning :** Mild swearing and a slight case of a ferret abusing a cat. - Thank you to Indyanna for the quick beta work :)

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Draco stared at the thick wad of papers he was just handed. "It's a book."

"No," Hermione said calmly, "it's a list."

"Granger-"

"Hermione. See? That's number twelve."

He quickly scanned the page before his eyes landed on what she meant. "Why can't I call you Granger?"

She huffed. "You know why. Don't you think it would be a red flag if you call me by my surname?"

"I don't see why." He took a step forward and wrapped his arms around her. "Hermione is what those other two tossers call you. Granger is what I call you."

She let out a tired sigh. "Malfoy-"

"Draco," he said cheekily, causing her to blush. He was right, this was a difficult transition to make.

"This is only for one afternoon." She untangled herself from him and started walking down the familiar street where she grew up. "Just follow the suggestions-"

"-rules."

"-that I've laid down, and you'll be fine," she continued, ignoring him.

He followed her silently, his gloved hands flipping through the sheets of 'suggestions'. "Are you worried that your parents might not like me?"

Hermione hugged herself from the winter cold and sped up. She didn't really want to talk about this with him. "Think it through with me. They know about the name calling-"

"-childhood shenanigans."

"They know about the Inquisitorial Squad-"

"-a simple bid for leadership."

She stopped to huff in annoyance at him. "They know about the mark."

Draco frowned. "What's Weasley's address again?"

"You're not going to hurt him," Hermione said as she rolled her eyes. She knew that even though they fancied themselves enemies, they were far from it.

"Shows how much you know. Nott just showed me this nifty curse-"

"We're here," she interrupted quickly as she grabbed his arm and pointed him to the house. "Now, you're going to be on your best behaviour. No Death Eater jokes. No revealing embarrassing things about Ron, Harry or me. And most of all, call me Hermione. Got it?"

"I'm guessing that your favourite foreplay games are out too."

Her response was a steady glare, to which he chuckled.

They just started up the snow covered path to the Granger residence, hand in hand, when Draco felt Hermione twitch nervously beside him.

"Would you relax? Everyone likes me. Once people find out I'm a Malfoy-"

"They're Muggles."

"-or I give them a hundred pound note, is it? I'll be golden."

Hermione smiled in amusement at his confidence. "You can't buy yourself out of this one. You need good old fashioned grovelling. As long as you keep my father away from his hunting rifle, you're fine."

Draco paused, his eyes widening. "Isn't that the Muggle killing machine? Your father owns one?"

Not saying a word and smiling brilliantly, she entered the house. Draco followed apprehensively, moving behind Hermione just in case.

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Hermione was surprised that things had gone so well. Draco was thoughtful, courteous, and not one insult had formed from his lips save for an off hand remark about her bushy hair. The only hiccup came in the form of her two little cousins who found his platinum blond strands something to play with. They found the tall man in a dark suit with stoic features somewhat of a different entity from the rest of the Granger clan. They took an instant liking to him, asking him to play with them in the snow. Draco ignored her sounds of protests with a suggestive smirk and led them outside. Now, Hermione was just a bit worried. She hadn't seen the three for close to twenty minutes; which led Hermione to put on her coat, gloves and scarf and go looking for them.

She found them a few blocks down at the park, playing. But what made her pause was what they were playing with.

"'Mione, look. Santa's reindeer!" Her two cousins squealed as they played around the large animal.

She immediately panicked before her eyes landed on Draco who watched them as they ran, jumped, poked and prodded the beast, and it did nothing. She moved quickly to stand beside him, her cheeks flushed from the cold.

"What's a _reindeer_ doing here?"

"Apparently, according to your cousins, Santa lets them out one at a time to play before they have to go back to work."

"No, I mean..." This didn't seem right. Why was such a large animal staying still while six year olds were running around and exerting themselves? Her eyes narrowed. "Malfoy, what did you do?"

He smirked. "They wanted me to give them piggy back rides. So, I got them something that can give them that without breaking its back."

"Where in the world did you get a reindeer?"

"I hear they're in season this time of year."

She huffed. "Malfoy..."

Draco winced slightly, as if he was expecting a good telling to. "How close are you to that cat?"

Hermione looked at him in confusion. "What cat?"

"The cat that was sleeping on the windowsill."

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "What? Is that..? Did you transfigure my cat into a _reindeer_?"

"The bloody thing wasn't doing anything, just sitting there. I put it to good use."

"You... you just...Did you not read my list?"

"You mean the one hundred things _not_ to do this afternoon?"

Hermione didn't even bother correcting him on the exact number that was on that list. "Number forty seven, do not transfigure _anything_."

He stared at her for a moment, and Hermione really thought he would realize what he had done was wrong and turn poor Snowball back into its previous form. But he simply shrugged and turned away. "Must have missed it."

She sputtered in surprise, wondering for the millionth time exactly _why_ she was dating him. She was just reaching for her wand to fix this travesty, when he stopped her by placing his hand on hers.

"Look." She followed his gaze, her glance falling on her two cousins who were laughing as they took turns trying to climb the reindeer and failing miserably. "Do you really want to cut this time short for them?" Her eyes moved away from the children to land on the man beside her. He was watching them earnestly, just as a boy would when he was seeing something that he never had but always wanted.

"Fine," she whispered, more for him than her cousins. "Ten more minutes."

Coming out of his reverie, he smirked at her. "Told you everyone would like me."

She scoffed, even as she took his gloved hand in hers and leaned into him. "Don't know why. You're arrogant, insensitive and an absolute bore."

His eyes twinkled. "Then why do _you_ like me?"

"No idea," Hermione grinned. "It must be that famous Malfoy charm that you obviously lack."

Leaning forward, he lightly pecked her lips, before pulling her closer and kissing her so deeply, she forgot about everything but them. It was his way of kissing her into submission; the devious prat.

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	3. Two Stockings Are Better Than One

**A/N - Written for the Christmas Challenge 2010 at Dramione Drabbles on Live Journal. **

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**Prompts: **Stocking and clumsy kiss.

**Title:** Two Stockings Are Better Than One

**Rating:** R

**Word Count:** 1498

**Notes/Warning:** Firewhisky consumption should always be a warning ;) - Thank you to my beta ListenAndBelieve for making this readable.

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It is a ridiculous tradition: hanging red and white stockings along a fireplace with individual names on them. Who would want their gifts in such a wrapping? Draco scowled to himself, the Firewhisky he carried a welcome excuse not to mingle. The names he passed were hardly important. Each one was a Ministry official, or an intelligent witch or wizard who knew that donating money was more for their own personal causes than the well deserving. He only paused his personal musings when his gaze landed on a familiar name.

_Hermione._

Raising his head, he scanned the crowd that was in attendance at the annual Christmas Ball thrown by the Ministry; his eyes finally landing on a mane of familiar bushy hair near the entrance to the balcony. Reluctantly he scanned her form from head to toe, lingering too long on a certain rounded part of her body covered delicately by the red dress she wore. Any other day, he would have avoided her and headed in the opposite direction. But today, (it might have been the slight buzz he was feeling from Ogden's finest) Draco Malfoy found an inescapable urge to go make his presence known to Hogwarts' most famous bookworm.

Keeping his eyes trained on her as a hunter would his prey; Draco downed the last bit of the Firewhisky before he placed the glass on the tray held by a passing waiter. Straightening his jacket, he took long, confident strides towards her. Her hair, which is usually a wild mess of curls tied messily at the nape of her neck, now hung freely around her shoulders. She stood slightly taller than he remembered; wearing heels so high he knew she was far from comfortable. As he moved closer, he caught glimpses of her face whenever she spoke to her companions, and Draco couldn't help but notice that her makeup was tastefully applied. She had definitely blossomed after their school days, coming into her own beauty; which is why he never understood why she would dress plainly whenever she came to work. It was always the same boring cloak, with the same boring hair and same boring make up. But tonight, she was easy on the eyes. Very easy on _his_ eyes, if he had cared to admit it.

Smirking mischievously, he stepped behind her, his chest gently bumping into her back.

"Granger," he acknowledged silkily, as he lowered his head slightly so that his warm breath ghosted though her curls.

She stiffened, but Draco knew that she wouldn't move away from him. That would mean defeat and Hermione Granger is nothing if not a formidable opponent.

"Malfoy."

His smirk widened at her unhappy tone. "I see you didn't take my threat seriously."

An awkward look passed between the two women Granger had been happily chatting with just a moment ago.

"Give me just a second," Granger said sweetly. "You know how some office work just doesn't let you be." Without waiting for their response, she eyed him warily and headed towards the balcony. Knowing that it was an open invitation, he followed her.

With a quick charm, he closed the door behind them before pocketing his wand. "A bit secluded, don't you think?" he asked casually, though his tone betrayed a hint of a threat.

Her resulting smile could only be described as fake. "Which is exactly why I chose this place. If something did happen to you, no one would be the wiser."

"And you assume that I would be the one who will be in the weaker position?" Draco asked flippantly as he took slow, deliberate steps towards her.

She stayed where she was, leaning against the railing, her arms crossed in a defensive position. "If you lay a hand or spell on me, yes."

He got closer to her. "But you're the one who broke our agreement."

Her eyes narrowed. "You started it, Malfoy. You should have never tried to stop my promotion."

With the intention of scaring her with his imposing presence, he took another step closer, bringing their bodies nearly a hairsbreadth away. "And you shouldn't have tried to make my client quit."

She leaned towards him, her chest grazing his slightly. "You'll have to try more than a half-hearted scare tactic to get me to leave."

He leant closer, and wasn't disappointed when she refused to move back. "Even if I make your life so uncomfortable that you would need to call on your precious Potter to protect you?" he smirked.

Her glare was as cold as granite. "Like I would ever turn my back on a snake like you." From the corner of his eye he saw her hand inch down the side of her dress and rumple the silky material against her thigh.

Knowing that she was reaching for her wand, he grabbed her wrist to stop her. "Ah ah ah, Granger." He leant even closer to her, his other hand grasping the railing and effectively blocking her in. "You wouldn't want to start a scene, now would you?"

"Let me go, Malfoy," she sneered, even as she pulled against his grasp.

Pushing his entire weight against her, he pinned her against the railing. "Try asking me nicely," he mocked.

Her expression of hatred only fuelled his need to outdo her.

Keeping her small wrist tightly enclosed with his fingers, he raised her dress roughly until his eyes landed on her wand hidden inconspicuously against her thigh high black stocking. "And here I thought you were a modest witch."

She stopped struggling, her eyes narrowing at him; challenging him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He let go of her limp wrist to circle his hand along the lace across her thigh, bunching up her dress across her hips. She gasped as he lifted her leg against his hip, so as to properly study this phenomenon of his hated rival bringing a certain familiar need within him, to the surface. Their eyes met, and Draco couldn't help but be surprised that not only was she not pushing him away, but her tiny fingers were fisting the lapels of his dinner jacket.

She pulled him closer, her eyes darker than he had ever seen. "I _hate_ you," she sneered softly, her warm breath against his lips.

He leaned forward in an effort to unhinge her; burying his head against the crook of her neck amongst soft curls. "Not as much as I hate you," he whispered roughly. His hand tightened around the soft skin of her thigh as he pushed against her; in punishment or promise, he wasn't sure. Thinking that he could probably blame the copious amounts of Firewhisky he consumed that evening, he did something he never thought he would ever do; he snuggled closer against her neck, and bit the tiny pulse at the base of her throat gently. She immediately arched against him, one of her hands tangling amongst the strands at the nape of his neck, while the other grabbed his shirt tightly. He continued the onslaught against her skin, his teeth grazing her throat almost painfully. She held onto him fiercely; the tiny mewling sounds she was making causing his breath to quicken, and his little bites to become warm open mouth kisses along the soft skin of her jaw and neck. Her hand that was tangled in his hair pulled him closer, which he complied with by moving his kisses up the column of her neck, her jaw, her chin, before they finally landed on her lips.

The kiss between them exploded in a flurry of hot breaths and moans. He kissed her with all the pent up aggression he felt while dealing with such a frustrating do-gooder for so long. And she kissed him back just as passionately as she tugged his hair painfully amongst the pleasure he was feeling from her onslaught. Teeth clashed, tongues fought, hands roamed across bare skin while his breath mingled with hers in an effort to ensure that no smooth surface of skin was left untouched. Merlin, she tasted divine; a mix of cinnamon and Firewhisky. It was far from the most sophisticated kiss Draco had ever taken part of, but it was definitely the most erotic. If he had known there was such a passionate witch under that mop of hideous curls, he would have tried to invade her personal space ages ago.

It was Granger who finally pushed him away, causing him to stumble. Her cheeks were flushed, and her hair far from neat. She glared at him, which he returned fully even as they took quick, deep breaths to calm their exploding nerves.

"This..." she began shakily, her voice husky, "did _not_ happen."

Straightening her clothes and hair quickly with trembling fingers, she marched off, her head held high.

Draco watched her angry figure as she left. If he wasn't mistaken, she just gave him another challenge.

Maybe he would enjoy getting his gift in stockings, after all.

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	4. An Unexpected Moment

**A/N - Written for the Christmas Challenge 2010 at Dramione Drabbles on Live Journal. **

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**Prompts:** Mistletoe and an unexpected kiss.

**Title:** An Unexpected Moment

**Rating:** G

**Word Count:** 1351

**Notes/Warning:** Thank you to ListenAndBelieve for the beta work.

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"This is... unexpected."

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes. "This is far from unexpected, this is bloody inconvenient."

A perfectly blond eyebrow rose in surprise. "Hermione Granger, swearing? I knew you have been hanging out with Weasley for far too long."

"It's not Ron, Malfoy. It's you." She let out a low, concentrated breath. "Seven months we have been working together, and you still make my blood boil."

At least he had the decency to look affronted. "And you think that working with a high strung workaholic is a walk in the park then?"

"I'm not saying I'm perfect." She ignored his snort of protest. "But, if I'm given a job, I would like to do it well or not at all."

"Yes, I remember your philosophy of work, having heard it nearly everyday for the past seven months of my life. You know Granger, it hasn't been easy trying to live up to your impossibly high expectations."

She stared at him for a moment. "You have been _trying_ to live up to my expectations? You waiting around until _I've_ done all the work? Is that what you call it? You _trying_?"

"Well I can't bloody well _do_ anything, now can I? What, with a short, bushy haired pixie nipping at my heels whenever I do something in a different way. Not wrong, just different."

"Firstly," she began as she leaned forward, her eyes narrowed. "I am _not_ short. I'm of average height of any witch in this _world_, thank you very much. And secondly, I told you on the first day of the job that if you didn't know anything then _ask_ me. But of course, you and your Malfoy pride can't go so low as to ask for help."

"That was one little incident. Do we really need to hash it out right now?"

Hermione gestured above them. "Considering that we're stuck for sometime, I think we have all the time in the world."

Malfoy looked up thoughtfully for a minute before he faced her again. "You know there's a way to get out of this, right?"

She stared at him in surprise. "You're not serious."

"Yes Granger, I'm joking. Spending twelve hours a day, five days a week, working alongside you for seven months, would make any bloke want to continue having the same argument over and over, while sitting on the tiled floor of a bloody hospital."

Hermione huffed in frustration as her eyes rose again for what felt like the thousandth time. "Who in their right mind would put one of George's mistletoe in a hospital?"

"Someone daft, I bet. How do the Healers move around? Leaving five feet between them at all times?"

"That must not be good for emergencies."

"I have half a mind to send a lengthy letter of complaint to the owner of this establishment."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "And what would you demand?"

"Compensation, mostly," he said thoughtfully without missing a beat. "I could probably get away with a Galleon for every minute that I had to spend under this bloody fig talking to you."

Hermione smiled sweetly. "Is that what you think you'll get? A Galleon a minute? I hate to burst your bubble Malfoy, but after hearing my side of the story, I think I could definitely walk away with twenty Galleons for every half a minute I was stuck with you."

"I'm excellent company."

"I wouldn't know, considering I try to ignore your existence."

"And does that work?" he smirked.

She fought the smile that threatened to escape. "Unfortunately, you make it extremely difficult to ignore you."

"I'm glad I can do _something_ right ."

They smiled at each other, their previous argument forgotten, until the sound of someone clearing their throat broke them out of their reverie.

"Excuse me," the female Healer smiled as she cast a confused look between the two adults who sat cross legged in the middle of the Hospital corridor. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to have your discussion somewhere else."

"Mistletoe," Hermione and Malfoy mumbled in unison.

The Healer's glance moved up, and her smile immediately dropped. "I thought we got all of those. We ordered some mistletoe to liven the place up for Christmas, but some of the charmed ones got sent in by mistake." She smiled apologetically at them. "I'll get someone to take it down in a bit."

"Yes, please take your time," Malfoy scowled only to earn a reprimanding look from his companion who sat opposite him.

"You could always just kiss her and leave," the Healer said sincerely.

Hermione could swear that his eyes nearly bugged out comically from his head. "_Kiss_ her? I don't think you know what you're asking me."

"You see," Hermione began in mock explanation. "He's a Malfoy, and as a pure-blood wizard, he can't be seen kissing a Muggle-born such as myself. That would only hurt his image that he has used years to cultivate."

"Granger..." Malfoy muttered in a low, threatening tone.

"Think about it this way," Hermione continued, thoroughly enjoying painting him like such a character. "If Draco Malfoy was found kissing someone of 'lesser' blood, the immediate uproar would be horrendous. People will demand retribution. The world will stop spinning. Magic, as we know it, will cease to exist."

"Granger," Malfoy sneered just a bit louder.

"And can you imagine Malfoy and I actually _kissing_ each other? No one would believe it. Some people might even die of laughter. Ron would just blow a fuse-"

"Bloody hell," she heard him mutter just before she felt him grab her face with both hands and slam his lips down on hers hard. Her eyes widened before she realized that this man who has irritated her to no end since day one was kissing her with or without her permission. Her lips parted in protest, which only allowed his tongue to invade her mouth and send a bout of pleasure surging electrically up her spine. Before long, she found herself kissing him back, her own lips meeting his just as urgently. It took the familiar sound of the Healer clearing her throat for them to finally break apart.

"Well then," the Healer mumbled awkwardly. "I guess you could leave now. I'll send someone to remove the mistletoe." Without another word, she left; leaving the two co-workers sitting self-consciously beside each other.

Hermione kept her eyes stubbornly trained on the floor as she stood up and dusted her robes with quick, forceful strokes. "You told me you wouldn't kiss me if your life depended on it," she said in an accusing tone.

"And apparently," he said causally as he stood up himself, "you can't shut up unless I snog you senseless."

Her eyes snapped up to see the bane of her existence _smirking_. "You find this funny?"

"On the contrary," he stated calmly as he took casual steps towards her. "For months, I have been wondering just how to stop you from spurting nonsense, and now I have my answer."

Her jaw dropped by it's own accord. "You plan on kissing me whenever I'm willing to say anything that you don't want to hear?"

"Pretty much," he shrugged.

"Draco Malfoy, if you think that I will let you treat me like some sort of-" She never got to finish, for at that moment his lips met hers gently with a slight pull against her bottom lip. Hermione stared wide-eyed as he moved back, a wide grin across his face.

"I think I'm going to like this coming year."

Hermione stayed silent, her glare speaking volumes.

Probably satisfied at her lack of speech, his grin widened further. "Shall we go interview that witness then?" Without waiting for her response, he turned on his heel and started moving towards their intended destination. Hermione followed, seething. She was not going to let him get away with this. She was going to talk non-stop, and Malfoy would have to kiss her constantly to keep her mouth shut. One of them is bound to break first, and it is _definitely_ not going to be her.

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	5. Four Christmases Ago

**A/N - Written for the Christmas Challenge 2010 at Dramione Drabbles on Live Journal. **

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**Prompts: **Cards and Perfect Kiss

**Title:** Four Christmases Ago 

**Rating:** G

**Word Count:** 1499

**Notes/Warning:** Warning...fluff?

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**Christmas 1998**

He was considered an outcast after the Second Wizarding War. Therefore, it was no surprise that the first Christmas following the war, his eighteen year old self received no party invitations or Yuletide wishes.

He had recently acquired a low paying job at the Ministry in an effort to show an innocent front against the very institution that seized the Malfoy assets for investigation. He worked amongst many of his schoolmates; but none who gave him a second glance whenever he passed by. Which is why he was surprised when he received a Christmas card addressed to him personally on his office desk.

He stared at the card with a reindeer on the cover for a few minutes, wondering which of his former acquaintances could be so heartless as to joke around with him during the holiday season. It took the gentle nudging of Ogden's finest for him to flip the card open and read the message inside. Needless to say, he had never been more surprised in his life.

_Dear Malfoy,_

_Here's hoping that this season finds you and your family well. _

_Happy Christmas,_

_From Hermione._

He stared at the meticulous handwriting in confusion. There had been moments where she had sent him a kind smile now and then; but he had ignored her studiously. Surely that was no reason for her to consider him when sending out her Christmas cards?

He took the card home that night and placed it carefully in the middle drawer of his mahogany desk, intending to throw it out later. Funny thing is, he never got around to it.

**Christmas 1999**

It had been a hard year. His father had been convicted by the Wizengamot for crimes committed while under the service of the Dark Lord, and sentenced to ten years in Azkaban. He had just arrived home after a particularly tiring day with the lawyers, when he saw the Christmas card lying innocently on his desk. Even though he wasn't surprised by it's presence, he was uncomfortable with the reaction he had to the picture of Santa Claus. He almost felt.. relieved that he wasn't forgotten by someone in the world; even though he hadn't spoken a word to that same 'someone' in over two years.

He didn't even take off his cloak and settle himself behind the desk, as was custom, before he flipped open the card.

_Dear Malfoy,_

_May this season bring hope, even if it seems impossible, to you and your family._

_Happy Christmas,_

_From Hermione._

He felt that the message was specifically for him. He had to fight the urge to floo to Notts or Zabini's homes just to check if they had recieved Christmas cards from the bookworm; and if they had, whether it had the same message inside. Instead, he placed it in the drawer on top of the previous card from the year before. He promised himself he will toss them when he clears out his documents and moved into his father's study.

He ended up moving the desk into the study, changing nothing of its contents.

**Christmas 2000**

He was running late from a meeting when he finally arrived at his office at the Ministry. They were having the annual Christmas party that he had no intention of attending. Which was why he intended to stop by the office, pick up his work and head home. The card placed discreetly on his table caused him to pause. That year, she had chosen a picture of a decorated Christmas tree with presents hidden underneath it. Unknowingly, he smiled to himself at the familiarity of the off hand gift, before he flipped open the card.

_Dear Malfoy,_

_May this season bring you peace and friendship for all the years you've yearned for it. _

_Happy Christmas,_

_From Hermione._

He stared at that word, '_friendship_'. Was this her way of telling him that she wanted to be friends? There had been moments where he had seen her trying to get up the courage to talk to him; but he always made sure to walk away first. He had never been a person for confrontation, even if it was friendly.

Without thinking much of what he was about to do, he pocketed the card, and headed out.

When he arrived at the office party, many stared, and others diverted their heads in quick whispers. But his eyes had landed only on the one person who smiled at him. She immediately invited him openly, which only served to put everyone else at ease. They didn't speak much that night; but when they did, it was civil and courteous on both ends. He never mentioned the cards, even though he felt the inescapable need to.

**Christmas** **2001**

He had decided to beat her to the curb and send his own Christmas card first. However, in an effort to ensure that she wouldn't think herself special, he sent cards to everyone he worked with. The last Christmas party had become a stepping stone to his social inclusion. He was no longer treated as a leper. And even though he didn't consider any one of them friends, he did have colleagues and acquaintances who didn't shy away from a greeting. When her card arrived as planned (a toy soldier on the cover this time), he smirked to himself, having already thought of what she would say in response to his own Yuletide wishes. What he didn't expect, was to be struck dumb.

_Dear Malfoy,_

_I hope this season brings you all that you hope for._

_Happy Christmas,_

_Love, Hermione._

He stared at that word, _'love'_. What did she mean by that? Had he given her too much leeway? Maybe he had been spending too much time with her. Their discussions over lunch that were based on books, history and politics had to stop. They were obviously giving her the wrong impression that they were friends. Which they were not. Most certainly, they were not. He had never intended to be her friend; and he was positive that she never intended to be his.

After a hour long internal debate, he placed the card where he placed all the other cards: in the middle drawer of his desk. Maybe the coming year was finally the time to throw them out and forget about these new relationships he had so unwittingly forged. But, just as previous years, the cards stayed where they were. Untouched, but for the occasional moments where he read them whenever he opened that drawer.

**Christmas 2002**

He stared at the pile of Christmas cards that littered his desk. He had been pleasantly surprised by the sheer number of Christmas wishes he and his mother had received that year. This should have been a cause for celebration; they were finally being accepted by the Wizarding community after nearly four years of exile. But he found his face heavily marred by a frown. One card was missing this year.

Thinking quickly, he put on his cloak and headed to the Christmas party as he had done the past two years; only this time, to a warmer reception. He found her speaking to a few Ministry officials, and waited patiently until she was alone before he cornered her.

"I didn't get a card."

Hermione turned around, startled. "Malfoy, what..."

"Christmas card. I didn't get one this year." Somewhere in the recesses of his mind he knew he sounded childish, but he just didn't care.

"Oh," she said quickly before dropping her gaze. "I was planning on getting you one, but I guess I might have forgotten."

Her words hurt him more than he cared to admit. "I see," he said gruffly.

He turned on his heel to leave in an effort to hide his disappointment, when her hand on his sleeve stopped him. "Malfoy, wait." He turned back, surprised by the urgency in her tone. "I'm your Secret Santa, okay?" she whispered, ducking her head to ensure that no one else heard her. "I thought I could give you the card with your gift." She jerked her head towards the clock that hung over the entrance.

He followed her gaze and noted that there were two more hours before the Secret Santa exchange. "Oh," he mumbled, embarrassed.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Or maybe I can give it to you now." Leaning up on her toes, she lightly pecked his lips with hers. "Happy Christmas," she said softly as she pulled away from him.

He stayed still in his stunned state.

She giggled. "I told you I will surprise you someday. And you said I couldn't me spontane-" She never got to finish. For at that moment, he had snapped out of surprise and reached for her, his lips meeting hers gently. Her arms circled around him as she kissed him back earnestly. As far as he was concerned, she just promised him everything she ever wished for him in those Christmas cards. The kiss was absolutely perfect; and so was she.

.


	6. Hidden Meanings

**A/N - Written for the Sorting Hat Drabble Competition Week on LiveJournal.**

**

* * *

**

**Prompts: **"I shouldn't ask but..."**  
**

**Title:** Hidden Meanings

**Rating:** PG13

**Word Count:** 499

**Notes/Warning:** None.

.

He was staring at her again; and it was unnerving.

It wasn't easy, keeping her mind on the job as hostess while he stood just a few paces away; watching her with those steely grey eyes.

"Ms. Granger," he drawled lazily in mock greeting. He had followed her as she left for the kitchens; blocking her exit by strategically placing himself. Part of her fought the urge to remember how he used to whisper her name hotly against her skin.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said rigidly, glaring at him through lowered lashes.

For a moment, she fooled herself into believing that a look of longing flashed behind his eyes. She knew it was a trick of the light. The only time he had ever looked at her with longing was when his eyes had darkened with desire. She could never refuse him whenever he looked at her like that.

He smirked confidently. "You've been avoiding me."

"As usual, your skills of observation is equal to none," she replied scathingly.

He took a step closer, making every cell in her body yearn to touch him. "I always prided myself in that. Tell me," he said as he took another step closer, effectively blocking her in, "if it came to your attention that someone was willing to provide a generous donation to your cause, for a price, would you agree?"

"If the benefactor was to let his donation be known, then I see no reason to refuse," she said softly, her eyes meeting his intensely.

His smirk fell as he eyed her carefully. "There are those who wouldn't understand his interest in the... project."

"Maybe the benefactor should consider what benefits the 'project' could give him."

He smiled, the humour failing to reach his eyes. "I assure you, he knows." He moved closer, his gaze falling to her lips. "He can think of nothing else."

Hermione stayed still as he leaned towards her, his breath hot against her lips before capturing them in a kiss so passionate, it took every subconscious thought for her to not lean towards him.

A bout of laughter broke their stolen kiss, and was the perfect distraction she needed to move away from him. "Your wife," she muttered shakily, "must be wondering where you are, Draco."

He shook his head, tired of the same argument. "Hermione-"

"I have to go." With shaky fingers, she pushed against his chest, and just made it out of the alcove when her assistant found her.

"Hermione," Sandra said forcefully, "the Minister is still waiting for you."

"What? Oh. Right. The Minister," Hermione mumbled distractedly.

"I shouldn't ask but..." Sandra eyed her in confusion. "Is there something going on between you and Mr. Malfoy? He hasn't stopped looking at you since he arrived."

Hermione looked over her shoulder to see him studying her.

"No," she said forcefully. "There is nothing between me and Mr. Malfoy."

Turning away from him, she headed towards the Minister, effectively ignoring the frown that graced his face.

.


	7. A Silent Wish

**A/N - Written for the Anti-Valentine's Day Drabble-A-Thon on LJ**

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* * *

**

**Prompt:** Just because she likes the same bizzaro crap you do doesn't mean she's your soul mate - _(500) Days of Summer_

**Title:** A Silent Wish

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **291

**Warnings/Notes:** None

.

She is perfect.

She understands him, helps him and loves him. She always knows what he wants and provides it before he even asks for it. They could speak for hours on topics that range from politics and business to social tactics that fail or succeed. She holds herself with undeniable charm, making all men who meet her envy him with every graceful movement of her delicate form. She is beautiful; exuding the type of classical elegance that he always knew he needed in a wife. She shares his aspirations, his ambitions; and in her own little way she helps him realize his potential and works hard to help him strive for it.

She is his support, his cheerleader, his lover. She is his conscience, his partner, his wife.

And then, there is Hermione.

The woman who fights him on everything. The woman who calls him on his crap and constantly bickers with him using that amazing wit of hers. The woman who stands up for herself, never lets him get away with anything and never lets him go unchallenged. She's annoying, headstrong, stubborn and bothersome. She doesn't stop pestering him, doesn't stop arguing with him and most of all doesn't stop getting under his skin.

And against his will, his heart skips a beat at the very thought of her, his breath catches whenever she's near and his skin tingles whenever he touches her.

She is relentless. She is in everything he does, everything he thinks, everything he feels. She is _everywhere_!

And yet...

He goes home every night to the woman who loves him. And he dreams instead, of the one woman who can't stand him. The one woman who - had things been different- could have been his.

.


	8. Stranded Company

**A/N - Written for the Colourful Phrases Competition**

* * *

**Prompt:** Yellow-bellied coward.

**Title:** Stranded Company

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count: **466

**Warnings/Notes:** None

.

"Umph."

"Oof."

"Ah."

"Stop it!"

"Stop what?"

"Stop _shoving_!"

"...no."

"Malfoy!"

"Granger!"

"Stop mocking me!"

"Shan't."

"Ugh. You're insufferable!"

"What makes you think that, Granger?"

"Hm. Let me think... There I was minding my own business, walking down the hall-"

"Strutting, more like."

"And then _you_ come along and _shove_ me into a broom closet-"

"Which I must say was a community service. I think others will glorify me. Erect a statue and make my birthday a holiday."

"Of course, _you_ would think that with your level of modesty. But my point is, I'm stranded here - in a dark place which feels like no where and is too spacious to be any closet, with the only person I can't stand. You!"

"You know Granger, if I didn't know any better, I would have thought you didn't like me."

"You shoved me into a broom closet, Malfoy. What makes you think I would?"

"How about the fact that you _dragged_ me into the broom closet with you? Honestly woman, if you wanted to spend some alone time with me, all you had to do was _ask_."

"..."

"Granger?"

"Pardon the silence, Malfoy. I was trying my best not to vomit."

"Oh? Thinking of Weaslebee?"

"Please! You're scared of Ron, and we all know it."

"_Me_? Scared of that big, clumsy, oaf? You should wash that head of yours, Granger. Loony was right. You _are_ sometimes unusually dumb."

"That big, clumsy, oaf can beat you to a pulp when he wants to. Face it, Malfoy. When Ron towers over you, you turn into a yellow-bellied coward."

"I'll have you know that my belly is not yellow."

"Oh? Green then? To match those scales you have underneath?"

"However did you know?"

"I know you can't see it, but I'm glaring at you right now, Malfoy. You're lucky I don't have my wand."

"And you're lucky I'm not using mine on you."

"..."

"Granger?"

"..."

"Grang- Ow! What was that for?"

"You imbecile! If you have your wand, get us out of here! Wherever _here_ is!"

"What do you mean get us out? The door has been unlocked all this time."

"..._what?_ But when you said-"

"I lied."

"Ugh."

"Granger! Stop that! Stop hitting me! Get off!"

"You are a slimy, perverse, annoying _git_! And I hope Harry and Ron mop the floor with you!"

"Granger, if you're insinuating that I shoved you into this broom closet so that Weaselbee would see us walking out together, jump to a completely ridiculous conclusion and be so distracted that he makes an absolute buggering arse of himself at today's Quidditch match, then I'm just _offended._"

"You're despicable!"

"Some might say so, yes."

"Ugh."

"Oi! Did you just-... Where's my wand?"

"Ba-bye, Malfoy."

"Wait! You didn't! Granger! Granger! Open the bleeding door, Granger! Granger! Hmph! Women! So bloody sensitive sometimes."

.


	9. Presentation is Everything

**A/N - Written for the Easter Chocolate Challenge on Livejournal**

* * *

**Prompt:** "Self-discipline implies some unpleasant things to me, including staying away from chocolate and keeping my hands out of women's pants." - Oleg Kiselev

**Title:** Presentation is Everything

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count: **497

**Warnings/Notes:** None

.

Draco eyed the trio expectantly from his office. They looked normal from where he was sitting. Weasley chatting on about something boring, obviously; Potter nodding in that absolutely annoying way of his; and Granger simply listening with a small smile across her lips.

The image looked wrong. Very wrong.

"You alright, Mr Malfoy?"

Startled, he looked up. "Yes, Susan. I'm fine." Lowering his voice to an almost whisper, he leant forward. "Tell me, how long has Potter and Weasley been in Granger's office?"

His secretary looked over her shoulder briefly before facing him again. "I think close to half an hour. I overheard Ms Granger's Personal Assistant say that she might go out to lunch with them."

"Hm..." Draco leaned back against his chair in contemplation, his fingers automatically picking up the Snitch-shaped paper weight and rolling it in the palm of his hand. "Very interesting."

Susan shifted from one foot to the other. "Um...Mr Malfoy?"

He looked up again, briefly forgetting that she was still standing right in front of him. "Yes?"

She gestured to the portfolio she had placed on his desk. "Shall I take it to Records then, downstairs?"

But Draco had already dropped the paper weight and was standing up, his eyes focused only on one thing. "Yes. Do that," he said with a small smile before leaving his office and his personal secretary thoroughly confused.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he took long, confident strides towards his destination. It wasn't long before Granger looked up, her eyes widening in panic from the moment she saw him. He barely gave her enough time to react. Marching into her office, he stalked right passed the surprised duo, bent down, grabbed his girlfriend by the back of her neck and snogged her. It lasted a total of eight glorious seconds before she pushed him off her.

"I told you, Granger," he said in that sultry voice that he reserved just for her. "When I see you, I just can't keep my hands to myself. Self-discipline is not even in my vocabulary when I think about you in my bed." And leaving her with her jaw dropped and wide eyes, he turned to the other two who sat quite still almost in shock. "Potter, Weasley," he said nodding in turn before he moved quickly out of that office before one of them could hex him.

But not before he heard Potter mumble, "I'm in an alternative reality, aren't I?" followed promptly by Weasley's, "What the bloody hell was that?"

Just before he stepped into the elevator, he turned around and winked at the flushed witch who was still eying him with a mixture of incredulity and deep seated anger. He knew he'd have to face her soon. But right now, he just wanted to revel in his rival's expressions. He couldn't help but let out a laugh just when the elevator doors closed, blocking his view of what promised to be a _very_ interesting conversation.

.


	10. Apology Accepted

**A/N - Written for the Easter Chocolate Challenge on Livejournal**

* * *

**Prompt:** After a bar of chocolate one can forgive anybody, even one's relatives. - Anonymous

**Title:** Apology Accepted

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **391

**Warnings/Notes:** None

.

After a quick discussion with her mother, Hermione made her way to the man who was seated on the wooden swing set in her backyard. She moved quietly, her steps slow, so as not to startle him. The moment she was within his gaze, she sat down cautiously. Then, just as she had done since she was little, she circled an arm around his and leant her head gently on his shoulder. He was rigid, but welcoming.

They stayed like that for a moment, silent in their own thoughts before she finally spoke. "I'm sorry."

She expected him to stay silent; but instead he said, "You should have told me earlier."

"I know."

"You should have told your mother and me."

She nodded, aware that her cheek nudged his shoulder gently. "I didn't mean to not tell you. It just...happened."

"And him showing up here, that just happened?"

There was nothing more to say, really; except, "He loves me, Dad."

Her father stayed silent, probably contemplating what she had just told him. "He never treated you right."

"He's treating me 'right' now. Doesn't that mean anything?"

She could almost feel the breath leave his body in defeat. "Did you bring it?"

Hermione grinned, glad that some things never changed. Just as she had done since she was five years old and needed forgiveness, she pulled out a bar of chocolate as a special bribe and kept it on the palm of her hand. After a moment of hesitation, her father took it.

"I still don't like him."

She raised her head from his shoulder and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "You'll learn to." Then turning around, she gestured for the man who had been waiting expectantly, to come over. "Dad," she said beaming, finally making the introduction she had wanted to do for months, "this is Draco Malfoy. Draco, my father."

Draco, who was as usual sure of himself, held out his hand. "Mr Granger."

Her father glanced at her briefly before grabbing her boyfriend's hand. "Draco."

Hermione beamed, aware that both of these men had put aside their differences for her. She couldn't help but think that maybe this could be the beginning of something; like the mutual respect for one another. And Merlin, did she need the peace with Harry and Ron acting as her pseudo big brothers.

.


	11. The Right Kind of Education

**A/N - Written for the Easter Chocolate Challenge on Livejournal**

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**Prompt:** "Never mind about 1066 William the Conqueror, 1087 William the Second. Such things are not going to affect one's life ... but 1932 the Mars Bar and 1936 Maltesers and 1937 the Kit Kat - these dates are milestones in history and should be seared into the memory of every child in the country." - Roald Dahl

**Title:** The Right Kind of Education

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count: **649

**Warnings/Notes:** None

.

"Did you know that historical philosophers believed that education was the light, in the otherwise dark emptiness of ignorance?"

Her husband looked up briefly from the Daily Prophet to eye her warily. "If this is one of your Muggle metaphors, I can tell you now that I'm one of the many who is on the Dark side."

Hermione's lips twisted in amusement at his badly laid out joke. "My point is..." She pulled out a piece of thick parchment that she had just received from the pile of mail. "We have just received your son's semester report."

That knowledge was enough for Draco to place the newspaper down. "Why is it that you call him _my_ son when he does something you don't approve of?"

"Simple, really. Because _my _son wouldn't do half the things that _your_ son regularly does. And, _your_ son did splendidly well during his exams."

Draco smiled broadly, pride in his eyes. "That's my boy."

Hermione waited a moment longer before she dropped the big news. "Except for one subject. History."

"_What_? Impossible! I coach him with that subject myself."

"I know." She pulled out another set of papers. "They even sent a copy of his last test as an example." Clearing her throat, she started reading. "When asked, 'what is the significant event that occurred in 1932?'; instead of the 'Goblin Revolution' _your_ son replied with two words. Mars Bars." She briefly looked up and saw her husband deflate with recognition. She decided to continue. "For the year 1936, Maltesers, and for the year 1937, Kit Kat; just to name a few."

Putting down the parchment, she raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you see what we have to deal with here? The Headmistress wants to see us."

"That ruddy youngling," Draco said incredulously, almost speaking to himself. "He actually did it!"

Confused, Hermione looked over to him. "What?"

"He _actually_ did it!" Draco repeated, only succeeding in confusing her further.

"Did _what?"_

Almost as if he just realized that she had been there, he turned towards her. "He wrote to me a while back. He said that he met this girl-"

"A girl?"

He waved off her question. "Someone in his year." He frowned, his eyes narrowed at the semester report in her hand. "He wanted me to approve of her before he asked her out. He said that he was pressed for time because Longbottom-"

"Alastair Longbottom?"

He nodded before he continued. "Longbottom was making his move on her. I told him that parents coming to Hogwarts to see their sons wasn't usually the way things were done. In his last letter, he said he'll see me soon. I should have known." He looked pointedly at her. "He has his mother in him, after all."

Hermione found herself even more confused than before and chose to ignore that last statement. "But why would he need your approval?"

"It's more advice than approval, really."

"Advice on what?"

He smirked at her. "I'm afraid that's between a father and his son."

There was only one topic she wasn't really privy to. "You _do _realize that teaching your son how to read women and change seduction techniques is _not_ what a father should be teaching his son."

Draco decided at that point to go back to reading the Daily Prophet. "My dear, I'm sure you know I have no idea what you're talking about."

Huffing, she started placing the parchment back into the envelope. It was obvious that she was going to get nowhere with this topic.

"Although," her husband began thoughtfully, "you have to admit that any type of education is the light in the darkness of ignorance." When he looked up with that familiar smirk across his face, she returned in kind with a familiar glare aimed right at him.

Honestly, she should have tried for a daughter when she had the chance.

.


	12. Sweet Preference

**A/N - Written for the Easter Chocolate Challenge on Livejournal**

* * *

**Prompt:** "Forget love ... I'd rather fall in chocolate!" - Anonymous

**Title:** Sweet Preference

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count: **903

**Warnings/Notes:** None

.

Draco glared at his so called friend who sat opposite him in his office. "I'm sorry...?"

"Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying it's a bad thing. You know I've always said that you needed to fill out a bit more," Blaise said with a humorous grin.

But Draco didn't find that little statement about his weight humorous at all. "Get out," he deadpanned.

Blaise let out a happy laugh. "Come now, Draco. Is this how you treat a friend when you're seeing him after nearly six months?"

"Friends have tact."

"And they can also take a small jibe."

Draco didn't really want to admit it, but they did have that sort of friendship.

"So tell me," Blaise began with a small grin, "what has made you change your eating habit so suddenly? For as long as I have known you, you have never been a big eater."

Draco opened his mouth to retaliate; determined to tell that Italian in no uncertain terms that how he eats what, is none of his bloody business. But no sound came forth. Instead he found his gaze falling on the one person who he didn't want to see, but his gaze automatically searched for every single time she was within the scope of his gaze.

Hermione Granger looked as plain as ever. She had hideous curls that had been piled high in a bun that couldn't quite tame them, she had simple robes that didn't quite show off her figure, and she never wore make up which always vexed Draco. For if she did none of those things that all other witches did to get attention, why was it that his eyes always fell on her? It was bloody annoying, really.

They were in the habit of always having shouting matches. She would get flushed, her chest would rise and fall in quick succession, and a few curls will always come lose. Draco had even caught himself picturing the most absurd things; such as her hair fanned messily on a pillow, or his desk, or even a kitchen counter. His eyes would trace the curve of her robes, wondering if her skin under the robes was just as soft as the skin she always showed. Those hands, that neck, that attractive flush just above her chest. He _had_ to stop thinking about her that way.

"Are you...?" Blaise looked at him incredulously. "Are you looking at Hermione _Granger_?"

Draco felt an unwelcome flush creep up his neck from embarrassment. "Don't be daft."

"You _are_ looking at her!" Blaise said with a wide grin, one that Draco knew he would always come to regret. He leaned forward and asked, "You two shagging then?"

Draco's eyes widened. "Are you mad? Me and _Granger_! That's absolutely laughable! She's a..." He was supposed to use the right term after all. "-Muggle born. And not to mention a Potter worshipper."

"Oh, so that's why," Blaise stated in mock seriousness, a mischievous glint in his eye. "It's not that she's not pretty or anything."

"Of course she's not pretty," Draco demanded half-heartedly. "That needn't be said at all."

And it was at this time that the bane of his existence invited herself into his office. "Is the deposition done, Malfoy?"

Blaise simply grinned up at her in greeting. "Granger."

She actually smiled at him. "Zabini. Back from your Italian excursion I see. Break any hearts while you were there?"

"Now you know I don't kiss and tell," his friend said with a little wink.

The performance of these two made him sick. And he couldn't help but glare at Blaise like he was a traitor. Because in Draco's mind, he was.

"Malfoy," Hermione said sternly as she turned back to him.

"Alright, Granger. Don't get your panties in a twist." He held up the file she wanted in such a way that she had to step closer to him to retrieve it. He told himself that this was how he could keep his upper hand over her.

With an angry glare, she snatched it out of his hand and stalked off; but not before she sent a friendly smile in the direction of his soon to be ex-friend.

Draco narrowed his eyes at his companion. "That was despicable."

Blaise simply grinned in good humour at him. "At least I didn't look at her like I would like nothing better than to rip her clothes off and shag her anytime anywhere." Before Draco could deny that he ever looked at her that way, Blaise stood up. "Now, are you joining me for lunch or not?"

"You go. I'll join soon. Have to clear this up first," he said gesturing to the pieces of parchment littered around his desk.

Blaise eyed him suspiciously. "See you near the elevator then."

Draco waited until his friend left his office before he charmed open the locked drawer to his right, and looked through his secret stash. Today she had been wearing a strawberry scent shampoo; something fruity but subtle. She had been so close he could smell it on her. He was in luck. Quickly, he picked a piece of chocolate with a strawberry centre and popped it into his mouth; relishing in the fruity taste of the candy before he put all his documents in order with a simple wave of his wand and stalked out towards the elevator.

That should help last him through lunch.

.


	13. Sublime Expectations

**A/N - Written for the Easter Chocolate Challenge on Livejournal**

* * *

**Prompt:** "Don't wreck a sublime chocolate experience by feeling guilty. Chocolate isn't like premarital sex. It will not make you pregnant. And it always feels good." - Lora Brody, Growing Up on the Chocolate Diet

**Title:** Sublime Expectations

**Rating:** PG-13

**Word Count: **394

**Warnings/Notes:** Draco's thoughts ;)

.

Hermione stared incredulously at the person seated opposite her.

"What do you mean, you don't eat chocolates? _Everyone _eats chocolates."

Malfoy simply shrugged before he dropped his gaze to the menu in front of him. "Chocolates are death traps, Granger. The more you eat it, the more you want it."

"And that's bad because...?"

"Because..." he mumbled, distractedly, as he eyed the menu. "I have always been in impeccable shape; and chocolates would ruin all the work that I have put in through the years."

"Surely, you can't be _that_ vain." But the slight raise of a mocking eyebrow proved her wrong. She leaned forward. "You're missing out on a lot."

"Oh? And what exactly am I missing?"

"Well..." Hermione began slowly, hoping to entice him into sharing a chocolate mousse with her. "You are missing some of the most sweet, intoxicatingly delicious candy we have ever known."

Malfoy smirked as he leaned forward as well, his demeanour becoming instantly predatory. "If memory serves right, I have already tasted something that is intoxicatingly delicious. And I'm _very_ sure it's hard to go back to anything else, after."

Hermione fought the blush that threatened to creep up her neck, memories from the night before racing back into her mind and causing her breath to quicken. But she was determined not to be the only one affected by that. Leaning closer, over the table that separated them, she said softly, "Did you know that chocolate can make any experience sublime?"

He looked at her curiously, a smirk still playing on his lips. "Sublime, you say."

She nodded, her voice dropping even lower in volume. "Especially if it's used as a proper topping." She looked at him meaningfully.

The slight darkening of his eyes with desire ensured her that her message was well received. "Why, Granger, I would have never picked you as a person who would allow such things."

Hermione shrugged innocently before she said in a bored voice, "If you share a chocolate mousse with me, I can definitely show you how to appreciate chocolate."

His smirk widened. "That's blackmail."

She grinned. "I know."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her, probably calculating whether or not she was lying, before he called for a waiter with a resigned sigh. "Remember, Gryffindors keep their promises."

She smiled at him innocently. "And Slytherins should learn to trust."

.


	14. The Apology Gift

**A/N - Written for the Easter Chocolate Challenge on Livejournal**

* * *

**Prompt:** "There's nothing better than a good friend, except a good friend with chocolate." - Linda Grayson

**Title:** The Apology gift

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count: **924

**Warnings/Notes:** None.

.

It was never a rare moment when Hermione found herself with her hands on her hips and a disappointed glare aimed right at her two best friends. Although, she had to admit at some point that it was becoming way too much of a common occurrence.

"Come on, Hermione-"

"Don't start, Ron. You know what you did."

"In our defence," Harry began diplomatically.

"You _have_ no defence. Did you two even consider the repercussions of your actions?"

They gave each other a look that she could easily interpret to mean that at that moment, they just didn't care.

Ron looked at her sheepishly. "You have to see it from our point of view."

Her eyes narrowed. "And what's your point of view?"

Ron looked at Harry, who simply shrugged.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Honestly, you two. What in Merlin's name made you think I was dating Draco _Malfoy?_"

"What do you mean 'what made us think'? The proof was right there in your-" Ron's voice trailed off when his eyes fell on Harry; and Harry, in all his subtlety gave his best friend a meaningful look and shook his head in panic. He also stopped this action when he saw that her eyes had fallen on him.

Something just wasn't right.

"Ron," Hermione said slowly, very much aware that the person she was towering over was looking at his best mate hopefully. "What made you think that I was dating Draco Malfoy?"

Ron's mouth opened several times, no sound coming out as he looked at Harry for help.

Hermione turned her gaze onto the dark haired wizard. "Harry?"

Harry sat stock still. "No idea."

It was obvious that she had to change tactic. "Boys, I promise. I won't get mad." Her tone was friendly, cheerful even.

The good thing she could always count on with Ron is his ability to believe something is safe without proof. To Harry's chagrin, he actually spoke. "We read it in your journal. Now, how could you say that we have no proof?" With every passing word, Harry's eyes widened before he dropped his head in his hands with a groan.

But Hermione hadn't quite heard that last bit. She was too busy hearing a white noise that seemed to be increasing bit by bit along with her anger. "You _what?_"

Ron stared at her, flabbergasted, while Harry finally looked at her through his fingers. Patiently, they waited.

"Is that why you cornered him in the corridor and _hexed_ him? Is that why you two have been trying to get him into detention _all week_? Is that why-"

"We were trying to protect you," Ron said quickly.

"From what?"

"Malfoy germs," he said innocently. Harry let out another groan.

Hermione took a deep breath so as not to hex them herself. "Did you two Sherlocks even bother to double check if that journal was mine?"

Ron leaned slowly towards Harry. "What's a Sherlo-"

"Shh," Harry whispered. "I'll fill you in later."

"You know I share a common room with the most annoying git on the planet because we're both Head boy and girl. Besides that tiny fact, if you really thought it was my journal, what were you two doing reading it?"

For the first time, they both seemed speechless. Then, just as fast as anyone could have said 'Hogwarts, A History', they were off the couch and heading towards the exit of her common room. "See you at potions!" Harry called over his shoulder before he pushed Ron through the door and followed behind with a sheepish grin.

Hermione stared after them, completely surprised by the turn of events.

"I knew they would find out soon, Granger."

Hermione turned around to glare at the one annoyance in her life, her mind making all the connections at once. "Did you get a fake journal, write a bogus entry and make sure that Ron and Harry saw it?"

Malfoy simply shrugged as he continued to lean against the wall lazily. "Your journal was extremely enlightening."

"Oh? Do tell."

"You speak on pages and pages of how absolutely fit I am." He lifted one arm in a way to show off those muscles that couldn't even be seen through the Hogwarts robes. "You also said what lovely hair I have." He ran his fingers through his blond locks suggestively. "And not to mention what a dashing smile I've got." He grinned widely; and all that was missing was a sparkle on his tooth.

Hermione tried her best not to smile at his antics. Lately, everything he did to annoy her wasn't mean at all. If anything, it was bordering on cute. "Very funny, Malfoy."

"Hey! Don't blame me. I'm not the one who believed that journal was yours."

She couldn't say anything to that. Instead, she huffed at him in agitation, marched right into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. What worried her was exactly how much the idea of dating him wasn't making her want to change schools. The thought of which - and she would never admit to this out loud - excited her.

That night, Harry and Ron left her a box of chocolates in front of her rooms as an apology; which Malfoy found it in his best interest to steal.

The next day, she jinxed his books to run away from him as a punishment. And Malfoy, in turn, brought her that same half-eaten a box of chocolates as an apology. How could anyone say 'no' to that?

.


	15. The Commitment Conundrum

**A/N - Written for the Dramione Last Drabble Writer Standing Competition on LJ  
**

* * *

**Prompt:** Commitment (Draco's POV)

**Title:** The Commitment Conundrum

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count: **350

**Warnings/Notes:** Beta - Heart of Spellz

.

Hermione watched patiently as Draco walked back and forth along the length of the sitting room at Malfoy Manor.

"Draco-"

"Wait. I'm thinking."

She waited a moment longer. "It's not a difficult decision, really."

He stopped to eye her incredulously. "This is a very difficult decision. There are other people to consider besides ourselves."

"I know that, but-"

"Not to mention the level of commitment needed is outstanding."

"It really isn't."

"Of course it is. You're asking a lot of me," he mumbled before he resumed pacing.

"Then say 'no'."

He stopped mid-step. "I can't say 'no'," he said scandalized.

"Why not?"

"Because a Malfoy never says 'no' when he's already given his word that he would do something."

"But you didn't know about your father before."

"Which is why I'm faced with this conundrum," he sighed. It was almost as if he had to make an earth shattering decision when he didn't need to.

"Are you even ready?"

"Of course I'm ready. I've been bloody ready for weeks."

"Then it's decided!"

"No, it's not. Didn't you hear my father? He's forbidden it! To go against him would be-"

"Devastating?"

He looked at her seriously when he said, "Among other things."

"Then say 'no'. I'm sure that Harry or Ron would-"

"I thought we went over this. Under _no_ circumstances will I allow Potter or Weasley to get the best of me."

"Then it's settled. Crookshanks is yours for a week!"

"What? But my father-"

"Will be fine. I've got to go, Draco." She leaned forward and pecked his cheek lightly. "I will be back from Australia before you know it." And with a small smile aimed toward that ginger cat of hers, she left.

Alone with the one animal who never really liked him, Draco turned towards it. "Alright, Cat. You stay away from my father and his allergies, and I just might feed you on time."

The demon actually hissed at him.

Draco's eyes narrowed at the creature. It was obvious that a battle was a foot for the coming week; and he had every intention of winning.

.


	16. The Right Words

**A/N - Written for the Dramione Last Drabble Writer Standing Competition on LJ**

* * *

**Prompt:** Adore and Need

**Title:** The Right Words

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count: **499

**Warnings/Notes:** Beta - Heart of Spellz

.

Would you stop fidgeting? You'll be fine."

That was the third time he had told her that, and it was the third time she had glared at him as a result. "I don't want to be _fine_, I want to be exemplary."

"You're meeting my parents; that's exemplary," Draco mumbled dryly.

He was just raising his hand to grab the large brass knocker when she pulled down his arm in panic. Draco subsequently groaned out loud before he raised an eyebrow at her.

"Now what?"

"I...um..."

He rolled his eyes. "Spit it out."

"What topics of conversation should we concentrate on?"

Draco shrugged lightly. "That's obvious. Stay on the one topic my parents could talk to anyone about."

"Oh?" she asked curiously. "And what's that?"

It was at that moment that Draco Malfoy stood straighter and smirked that award winning smile at her. "Me."

Hermione let out a flabbergasted, "_Excuse me_?"

Draco's grin didn't waver. "My parents are pure-bloods who have sired a son. _I_ am their greatest achievement. So _you_ need to compliment _them_ on their greatest achievement."

Hermione tried her best not to let out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh, I'm sorry, I should have known. Please tell me, oh Greatest-Achievement-of-the-Malfoy-Family, what exactly should I say about you?"

"Well," Draco began seriously, easily playing along. "You could always mention how devilishly handsome I am."

"Uh huh."

"How charming and witty..."

"Of course."

"You could say how you adore me. How you absolutely can't live without me."

"Goes without saying."

"And how you worship me-"

"_Worship you_?" She raised a mocking eyebrow at him.

"Of course," he said seriously. "No one could be with a Malfoy without worshipping that said Malfoy. That's unheard of."

Hermione shrugged lightly and turned to leave. "Well then, I guess I'm not with a Malfoy."

Draco immediately grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him, a playful smirk on his lips as he dropped his head teasingly towards her. "You could also tell them that even though you absolutely adore _me_, I seem to absolutely need _you_."

Hermione looked up at him innocently. "Seem to?"

"It's difficult to say that I'm not when I can't get you out of my bloody mind."

Hermione was just about to say that she felt the same when she heard the sound of the brass knocker thud loudly against the grand door. She immediately narrowed her eyes at her companion who was getting too good at distracting her.

Draco simply smirked as he kept an arm around her waist and waited for the door to be opened.

It was thrown open by his mother, who had been eagerly expecting the arrival of her son. Her smile fell instantly.

"Mother, have you met my bride-to-be?" He pulled her closer.

Narcissa's features immediately turned grim.

It was obvious to Hermione that Draco had _not_ in fact told his parents about her.

And _this_ was the man she was going to marry? She hoped to Merlin she wouldn't get Slytherin children.

.


	17. An Illicit Affair

**A/N - Written for the Dramione Last Drabble Writer Standing Competition on LJ**

* * *

**Prompt:** Naked and Illicit

**Title:** An Illicit Affair

**Rating:** PG13

**Word Count: **499

**Warnings/Notes:** Beta - Heart of Spellz

.

Hermione took her time as she stretched languidly in bed. Looking over at her companion, she smiled softly as she lightly touched the pale blond hair that had fallen across his eyes. She couldn't help but marvel that even after over two decades of knowing him, he still had that innocent boyish look whenever he slept soundly.

Lifting the covers from her waist, she reached for her robe and tiptoed out of her bedroom, looking forward to preparing breakfast for her and the man fast asleep in her bed.

But, someone beat her to it.

"Honey," Hermione sputtered in surprise as she pulled the robe tightly around her. "What are you doing here?"

Her daughter looked at her in confusion as she pulled open the refrigerator. "We're meeting my fiancé's family for brunch, remember?" Her daughter then looked up and narrowed her eyes at Hermione. "Why aren't you dressed yet? It's nearly ten."

"Oh. I was...about to get dressed. Just woke up. Long night, last night," Hermione sputtered nervously.

Her daughter's eyes stared at her suspiciously. "Are you hiding something?"

"What? Me? No," Hermione squeaked, cursing the fact that her daughter could read her so well. It was a gift she had passed down through genetics, apparently.

And as fate would have it, the man who was _supposed_ to stay hidden, stumbled out of her bedroom at that moment and grinned at the two of them as if nothing was amiss. Needless to say, her daughter stared at them both dumbfounded as Hermione winced, expecting a good telling to.

"Please tell me you two aren't having an illicit affair."

Draco stepped closer to Hermione and put an arm around her waist, a huge grin playing on his lips. "Of course not. We were just getting re-acquainted." He looked down at Hermione, his gaze predatory. "While naked."

Hermione inwardly groaned.

Her daughter pinched the bridge of her nose almost as if she was fighting a headache. "I should have known." Then, shaking it off, she looked at them both sternly. "I assume you two are back together?"

Hermione jabbed her elbow in Draco's side to stop him from spurting out nonsense while she nodded.

"And did you break up with Anya?" she asked, glaring at Draco.

"It was casual!" he said waving it off.

"Dad!"

"Yes, Princess. I'll send her a card." The only response was two glares sent his way.

"Then I'll meet you two at the restaurant in half an hour." Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her purse and stalked off. Hermione could barely hear her daughter mumble, 'Why you got divorced last month in the first place is beyond me'.

Draco waited until the door closed to smirk at her. "That went well."

Hermione glared at him, then smacked his shoulder. "That did _not_ go well."

Draco simply chuckled before bending down to give her a smouldering kiss.

Hermione smiled as his fingers immediately went to work disrobing her. They could afford to get a little late.

.


	18. His Mistakes

**A/N - Written for the Dramione Last Drabble Writer Standing Competition on LJ**

* * *

**Prompt:** Respect and Satisfy

**Title:** His Mistakes

**Rating:** R

**Word Count: **499

**Warnings/Notes:** Beta - Heart of Spellz

.

Harry Potter wasn't known for being the most observant, but some things he couldn't help but notice.

He noticed when Hermione would huff at him in annoyance, when Ron would whine that he was working too hard and when Draco-_bloody_-Malfoy was transferred to his department with that annoying smirk, his annoying hair and his annoying...self. Hermione didn't take it well either, if the yelling matches were any indication.

Every time he passed her office, Harry would wince when he heard the familiar voice of the blond state curtly that he deserved to be treated with respect followed shortly by Hermione's haughty tone that he had to earn it first. And that worked fine with Harry. Hermione and Malfoy at each other's throats was a welcome, albeit annoying sound to hear every morning and most of the afternoon. It made him thank his lucky stars that the prat had to answer to her and not to him. There was even a betting pool to decide how long Malfoy would stay without asking for a transfer.

The first two weeks went as expected. Hermione would order him to do something, and Malfoy, being the know-it-all 'Prat of the Century' would then do the very thing she would demand him _not_ to do, which caused her problems but left him sitting pretty and ultimately the whole thing always worked out. Harry stayed silent as Hermione talked his ear off about Malfoy's lack of respect for the hierarchy.

The next two weeks went worse. Hermione would give him near impossible tasks just to spite him and Malfoy would do them all while _not _following the proper procedure. Naturally, Hermione found out and Harry had to endure listening to a list of one hundred reasons as to why she didn't like him.

The two weeks after was complete torture. The fights were louder, the insults more creative, and Harry found it difficult to hire anyone who was willing to stay long enough and endure the back and forth that was going on between them. But still Harry stayed silent as Hermione spoke splendidly of the various undetectable methods of murder she had designed _just_ for Malfoy.

The final straw came the week after, when Harry just couldn't take it anymore. He just _couldn't_.

Storming into Malfoy's office he demanded that the git do everything in his power to satisfy her and stop her from talking to him about how disappointed she was.

It was later, when he had walked into Hermione's office without knocking and suffered a mild stroke at the image of his best mate being violated by a git -on her desk, no less -that Harry finally admitted defeat. The image of Malfoy's pale bum didn't help matters either.

Obviously, he should have been more specific.

As Harry closed the door on their stunned faces, he decided that he had made one other mistake. He should have hexed Malfoy that first day he saw the git eyeing Hermione's arse.

.


	19. Voiceless Threats

**A/N - Written for the Draco Birthday Bash Drabble Challenge on Malfoy Manor  
**

* * *

**Prompt:** Draco breaks out into song; anywhere, in any situation, any length.

**Title:** Voiceless Threats

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **500

**Warnings/Notes:** Did anyone else think Harry Potter goes Glee? ;)

.

Draco Malfoy was _fuming _with rage. He searched all the surprised faces that were staring at him, their eyes wide and their jaws dropped. He didn't care for that. He just wanted to know who was responsible.

His eyes studied the faces all around him in silence before his glance fell on one who looked wickedly smug.

_Weasley_! He should have known.

Narrowing his eyes he stalked towards the red head who seemed to have a perpetual expression of innocence across his features. But before he could grab the Weasel by the cuff of his robes and put a dent into that freckled face of his, Hermione stepped between them with concern etched on her face.

"Draco."

He narrowed his eyes at her before pointing at the red head with as much rage as he could muster. Hermione looked between them before she put her hands on her hips and faced the wanker. "Did you have anything to do with this?"

"Who? Me? No! Of course not. I would never-"

"Ronald Weasley!"

Weasley's nervous gulp was enough for Draco to give him a smug grin as he looked over his wife's shoulder. He was in for it now. But instead of facing the woman like a man, the bugger bolted; leaving his desk with quick reflexes that Draco would never admit to have been impressed with.

He would have followed, keenly intent on revenge, if Hermione hadn't turned towards him. "This is what happens when you start a prank war. And even though I told you I wouldn't say it...I told you so."

He would have loved to make a snide comment about how she never followed the diets that she promised she would. He would have also loved to hex Weasley by taking his genitals away. However, he wouldn't have been able to cast any spell let alone speak for lack of control over his vocal inflections.

With a forlorn sigh, Hermione said softly, "I suppose I should hunt him down and get him back so he could fix this."

Draco nodded, his eyebrows rising when she gave him a positively devious smile.

"But only if you say 'I love you'."

He balked. She couldn't be serious. There were people around. Too many people. On the other hand, he wanted to be able to speak again. Gritting his teeth, he said 'I love you', which came out in a low, breathy tune that he couldn't control.

With a giggle, his evil wife leant up on her toes and placed a loving kiss on his lips. "I knew I shouldn't have told Ron that you refused to serenade me in public."

Draco's eyes widened. Before he could grab her, she took a step back and pulled out her wand. "Don't worry, Darling, I'll go get your honour back." With a smirk she went after Weasley, leaving Draco standing among his amused co-workers.

He would have groaned had he been able to. Those Gryffindors were going to be the death of him.

.


	20. While Patrolling

**A/N - Written for the Dramione Last Drabble Writer Standing Competition on LJ**

* * *

**Prompt:** Affection and Relish

**Title:** While Patrolling

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count: **597

**Warnings/Notes:** It's always fun to write something canon compliant once in a while. Thank you to Heart of Spellz, as always! :)

.

Draco absolutely relished getting under Granger's skin; which was no easy feat. She was too confident to crack with insults, too smart to be ahead of with studies and too proud to cry by calling her a Mudblood. Obviously, he had to get creative. And obviously, that meant he had to stalk her.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?" She rolled her eyes as she hissed those words, her steps quick in an effort to move away from him.

Draco didn't bother to stifle the smirk that graced his lips while he fell into a comfortable stride alongside her. "Why, nothing, Granger. Why do you ask?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're following me again."

"Really?" he said sounding surprised. "And here I thought that as prefects we should work together when we patrol."

"Last time I checked, I'm supposed to patrol _here_ and _you're _supposed to patrol the dungeons."

His smirk widened. "And last I heard, we're not supposed to have secret meetings without permission."

She stopped, her eyes widening in panic before they were shadowed by a determined glare. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said stiffly.

Cocking his head at her in contemplation, he stepped closer, effectively making her move backwards until her back hit the wall. "I think you know _exactly_ what I'm talking about, Granger." He leaned even closer, his chest lightly brushing hers in an effort to unhinge her further. "And I think..." he said softly, letting his breath ghost over her cheek teasingly, "that Umbridge will be most pleased when she finds out what you and your minions are up to." He moved back so he could see her expression, a smirk forming on his lips when he recognized that fire in her eyes that always made his spine tingle.

"You think I won't get away?" she asked, her tone mocking and defiant. "You and your _Inquisitorial Squad_ don't like touching Mudbloods, remember? How are you going to catch me if you can't touch me?"

His eyes narrowed in wake of her challenge. "You think I won't touch you?" He grabbed her wrist just to prove her wrong and to stop her from reaching for her wand. Just to intimidate her further, he bent down until his face was just a hairsbreadth away from hers, his eyes staring into hers intensely. "You think I won't do _more_ than touch you?" he whispered.

He felt her shiver against him, which made him suddenly aware that he had pushed his body up against the length of hers, her soft curves fitting too perfectly against him. Her eyes narrowed while she pushed herself defiantly closer, her lips coming distractingly close to his. "What do you mean by that, Malfoy? What would you like to do to me?"

Nothing had ever sounded more sordid to his ears. The very thought of _being_ with a Mudblood...But that didn't mean that he wasn't excited by the very thought of tasting those lips that made him want to throttle her as much as hex her whenever she spoke. When his gaze finally rose to meet hers, the realization of where his thoughts had been made him push himself back. He was suddenly aware that he was shaking from stifling the need to touch her. Trying to mask the panic in his eyes, he turned on his heel and left quickly, leaving her staring after him in confusion.

He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't let what he was feeling for her turn into some sort of _affection_. That would ruin him. _She_ could ruin him.

.


	21. Drabbles 2011 : 1

**A/N - Written for the DMHG Challenge on LiveJournal in 2011. All drabbles are 100 words in length.**

* * *

**1.**

**February l Prompt : Veritaserum  
**

**Title:** The Truth

**Rating:** G

**Warnings:** None.

.

"Draco Malfoy, do you admit that your testimony was told while under the influence of Veritaserum?"

_No_. "Yes."

Hermione paused to look at the blond hopefully. "Do you also admit that you didn't hinder the use of the potion and therefore what you said was the truth?"

_No_. "Yes."

Hesitating, she leaned forward. "Did you ever really love me?" she whispered.

He stared at her unseeingly. _Yes_. "No."

She left then, her eyes tearing up.

Just as the door closed he focused his gaze. He had watched his mother wait for his father. He couldn't let that happen to Hermione.

.

* * *

**2.**

**March l Prompt : Murder  
**

**Title:** A Father's Murderous Warning

**Rating:** G

**Warnings:** None.

.

The initial bite happened the moment Draco arrived, and it took two minutes to get Fluffy to let go.

"It's a demon," he sneered at her dog as she tended to his 'wounded suit'. "It tried to kill me."

Hermione looked at her pet while it sat politely, wagging its tail. "Don't be melodramatic."

"There! See? The beast growled at me! He's trained by your father to hate me."

"Forget about him! Are you coming over tonight?"

Draco eyed the dog warily. "He sleeps in your bedroom?"

"Yes."

"Then, _no_."

Hermione sighed. She should have known her father wasn't joking.

.

* * *

**3.**

**April l Prompt : Fools  
**

**Title:** Fool for Her

**Rating:** G

**Warnings:** None.

.

When he was eleven, he was called a fool. His father thought him to be weak.

When he was sixteen, he was called a fool. The Dark Lord found him to be useless.

When he was eighteen, he was called a fool. He ignored the one person who could have freed him from prison.

_Hermione_. His love, his lust, his _everything._

She too would call him a fool; a fool who didn't accept her hand in friendship.

If only she knew why he did this; so he could be better for _her._

If only she understood.

If only... she knew.

.

* * *

**4.**

**May l Prompt : Year  
**

**Title:** A Year Later

**Rating:** G

**Warnings:** None.

.

The collective gasp of the older Malfoys echoed throughout the Manor.

Surprised herself, Hermione leaned towards Draco, whispering, "Did you have to tell your parents that we eloped _now_?" She eyed the Malfoys as they stared at the couple incredulously.

Her husband simply grinned. "If not now, when?"

Her eyes narrowed. "And when will you tell them that I'm pregnant?"

His arm circled her waist to hold her flat stomach gently. "Give me a year until the baby is cute and cuddly."

"That's what you said about our relationship."

He smirked. "And do you see how well that worked out?"

.

* * *

**5.**

**June l Prompt : Father  
**

**Title:** His Child, His Dreams

**Rating:** G

**Warnings:** None.

.

When Draco first found out, he grinned before twirling Hermione in happiness.

His son was going to have his hair and her eyes; his charm and her wit. He would be a brilliant Quidditch player, top of his class, a heart throb among the girls, and, of course, a Slytherin.

His son was going to be the Malfoy heir.

But, when he held on to his child that first time, those dreams crashed disastrously around him, followed swiftly by dreams of educational brilliance, athletic prowess, and a father-daughter dance at her wedding.

She even had his hair and her eyes.

.


	22. From The Enchanting Specimen

**A/N - Written for the Dramione Last Drabble Writer Standing Competition on LJ**

* * *

**Prompt:** Vulnerable and Enchant (Must be in the form of a letter)

**Title:** From The Enchanting Specimen

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count: **385

**Warnings/Notes:** This was originally written on LJ and part of the letter is stricken. Because I can't do that here, the parts that Draco have struck out are in brackets. Thank you to Heart of Spellz again :)

.

Dearest,

It has come to my attention from the two gits you associate yourself with against my will, that you are currently hyperventilating. I believe a statement about a brown paper bag was also made. (Sounded like a bloody Muggle contraption, more like).

I would have made my way to your chambers like any gallant knight, had the two same (gits) (prats) gits not stopped me because of a silly Muggle tradition that I'm supposed to abide. Needless to say, I'm locked in my chambers and the only way to send this letter is by owl. And once you get this, feed him, why don't you. The bloody thing looks a bit peckish.

Now, back to the business at hand. You must get over yourself and marry me. I know it must be daunting to marry an enchanting specimen like me. Having someone so perfect in your life must be dreadful. I can empathize with that fact. But locking yourself away and breathing heavily into a paper bag is not the way to spend ones wedding day.

I understand you must feel vulnerable at this moment. You poor thing, you must be scared out of your wits with the very thought of being declared my equal in the eyes of the law. After being treated a certain way most of your life, you have obviously not matured enough like the rest of us and put this whole ugly business behind you. I understand that I come with good looks, money and prestige, but that is no reason to think yourself unworthy of me. Our children might even be so lucky as to get your intelligence (and my head of hair).

And if this hasn't prompted you to search me out and slap me the way you did in third year, then I have truly failed in my endeavour. But, if I have succeeded and if you're currently clenching your wand tight, my love, I will be the bloke at the end of the aisle wearing an uncomfortable Muggle torture device called a 'tux'.

From the love your life, and not to mention the God of your bedroom,

Draco.

P.S. - Please don't make Potter and Weasley happy by arriving late to marry me. I might have to hex them just to make myself feel better.

.


	23. Tradition

**A/N - Written for the Draco Birthday Bash Drabble Challenge on Malfoy Manor**

* * *

**Prompt:** Angst and Draco's birthday

**Title:** Tradition

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **317**  
**

**Warnings/Notes:** Thank you to daughterxofxapollo for beta-ing.

.

The first time she had celebrated his birthday with him was just after they had started dating. She wanted to throw a party, have balloons and friends and a cake; everything that he never quite had as a child. He, on the other hand, wanted to have a quiet dinner with Hermione and his parents. She got her way in the end, by using womanly wiles that he never knew he would be so affected by. The threat of her not coming to his bed on his birthday was enough to allow her the barmy idea of throwing him a party; a small one, but a party nonetheless.

It was when she placed a ridiculous looking party hat on his head that he finally snapped. He had snarled and sneered, and somehow, her grin only seemed to widen. A chaste kiss had finally put him in a good mood, which served to make him less cynical of the whole process of celebrating his birthday. Even Pothead and Weasel didn't annoy him half as much.

The birthday's continued then. Every birthday she threw him a party and with each passing year, he got used to it. He even expected it. He always said he would endure it because of the presents he received - no matter how inadequate they were - when in truth, he loved seeing her smile, loved hearing her laugh, and loved teasing her for the way she used to hide that tiny giggle of hers.

It had been ten happy, childish birthdays, and this was his first since.

He didn't celebrate. He didn't know how. Instead, with a shaky breath, he placed a long stemmed rose on the grave of his beloved as he waited until the hour passed and it was no longer the day to celebrate. Every day was difficult without her, but, just as he thought, his birthday was the worst.

.


	24. The Request

**A/N - Written for the Taming the Muse challenge over at Live Journal.  
**

* * *

**Prompt:** Bequest

**Title:** The Request

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **550**  
**

**Warnings/Notes:** This is me trying something different.

.

Draco Malfoy did what they all wanted him to do. He sat at tea, then a picnic, then dinner. He charmed the parents, the sisters and her friends. He was witty, intelligent and caring. He was the epitome of the perfect host. He was the Malfoy heir and he acted like it; the approving nod from his father and smile from his mother proof that he was acting just as he should. He was rather proud of himself, really.

But then the true intentions of all were revealed and he felt no more than sick to his stomach.

"What?"

"Bequest," his father said sternly. "It's in the bequest, Draco."

"Bollocks."

Lucius Malfoy, the Lord of Malfoy Manor, narrowed his eyes at his son. "Language," he said softly, his voice steely yet almost comely.

"I don't give a fig about language." He turned towards his mother as she sat silently near the fire, her eyes watching them curiously even as she sat the way a proper pure-blood wife was supposed to sit; hands folded neatly on her lap and back straight with years of ingrained upper-class behaviour. "Mother, this can't be true."

"I'm afraid it is, Draco. That is how the Malfoy family had always passed on their property."

Draco simply stared at his parents, their eyes cool as they met his. They seemed to be saying the same thing: it's fact. He must.

"I can't marry her."

His father eyed him as if all he said was that he preferred not to have tea. "Why ever not?"

They looked at him expectantly. Draco faltered, the thought he had had seeming hardly enough to convince his parents that marriage wasn't the answer. But he knew it wasn't, deep inside. She had smiled at him, laughed with him and been every bit the charming Greengrass he had expected her to be.

"It's not…" He stopped, unable to find the right word. "She wasn't…"

"Draco?" his mother asked softly. "What is it?"

"She's not broken," he said finally, his words shaking in doubt. Was that it? That must have been it.

His father laughed. "Don't be ridiculous, Draco. Broken? What do you mean by that?"

When his gaze met his father's, Lord Lucius's smile fell almost instantly. His mother looked at him in worry, her fingers flexing nervously one over the other.

"She hasn't been through what we've been through, Father. You saw what she was like. Her eyes laughed when she did. She was happy. Truly happy. "

"Draco…" his mother began gently, but he stopped her with a hand.

"I can't be with someone who doesn't understand what I've been through. I need someone more than that."

"What do you mean, Dear?" Narcissa asked gently.

"I need…" What did he need? Someone to hold him, to take away his fears, to believe in him. Someone to stick up for him and not view him as the Death Eater that everyone else saw when they looked at him. Someone to fight him when he was wrong and praise him when he was right. Someone like…

_Granger_.

The inception of the thought was small, but it tightened his chest just the same. Without a second thought, he stormed out of the Malfoy Manor parlour, leaving his mother and father eyeing each other incredulously.

.


	25. It's All in the Kiss

**A/N - Written for the DMHG Challenge over at LiveJournal.  
**

* * *

**July l Prompt : Lipstick Stain  
**

**Title:** It's All in the Kiss

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

Hermione clenched the stained shirt in her fist, disbelief and anger coursing through her. How could he?

She moved quickly, intent on confronting him, only to stop when she saw him kneeling in front of their daughter.

"It hurts," her daughter pouted.

Draco sighed before kissing her elbow. "Better?" At her sad nod, he gave her a stern look. "You can't keep playing with Mummy's things without asking. Twice is more than enough."

"Sorry." She hiccupped.

He hugged her. "You're going to do it again, aren't you?"

Pulling back, she grinned, leaving a bright red lipstick stain on his collar.

.


	26. While Out Hunting

**A/N - Written for the Halloween Challenge over at Dramione Drabbles.  
**

* * *

**Prompts : Bat, Forest, Niffler  
**

**Title:** While Out Hunting

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **1473

**Warnings:** None.

.

Biting her lower lip nervously, Hermione looked over her shoulder, her eyes studying the darkness that seemed to envelope her where she stood, the partially covered moon hardly giving her sufficient silvery light to let her eyes adjust. She stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest all alone as she shifted from one foot to the other while she eyed the shadow of the Hogwarts Castle that seemed too far away to offer any comfort. The yellow lights that dotted a few windows gave her some courage, but not enough.

Reluctantly, she turned her attention back to the thick, dark shadows that were created by ominously shaped trees, the silence of the surrounding environment causing her heartbeat to quicken slightly.

She really didn't want to do this. No one knew where she was and they probably wouldn't think of trying to find her just yet. On the other hand, in retrospect, this was all her fault and she really couldn't contemplate living with herself if anything bad happened as a result of her ever present need to prove that she was right.

Searching deep for her Gryffindor courage and pulling out her wand for light, Hermione took a deep breath and took the leap, moving fast through the Forbidden Forest.

No matter how many times she had frequented the forest well known for its hidden charms, Hermione always found herself apprehensive of walking through the shadowed area; especially alone and at night. Still, it didn't stop her from doing the very thing that could attract unwanted attention and call out a name softly. Logically she knew that it was dangerous, but the faster she finds the person she had been hunting, the faster she could leave this place and go back to the comfy common room couch and savour a mug of hot chocolate.

She said the name a little louder, and swirled around when she heard a twig snap.

Completely alert, Hermione advanced towards the area where the sound came from, her footsteps quiet and the light emanating from the end of her wand a welcome companion.

It was not until she walked cautiously around a large tree that she finally found him.

His hair shone brightly in the dim light as he stood still, his Hogwarts robes ripped and the Slytherin tie loose around his neck. But it wasn't his appearance that she found disturbing, it was what he was doing.

Draco Malfoy was staring straight into the blind eyes of a bat that hung on a branch barely a foot away from him, wings wide and fangs bared almost as if it was ready for an attack. But, Malfoy didn't seem to notice. With his eyes glazed, he cocked his head to the side and regarded the bat curiously, his nose twitching like a mouse who was trying to figure out a certain smell.

Hermione knew she had to get him away before he hurt himself. But, she found herself unable to think of a possible solution where she could successfully get Malfoy away from the bat and keep him from running away from her.

With cautious steps, she moved forward, trying her best not to step on any twigs that littered the forest floor. But that plan wasn't meant to be.

_Snap_.

Almost immediately, the bat spread his wings and took off while Malfoy's head snapped towards her. Hermione barely had time to think before he turned and tried to make a run for it.

With a well-aimed charm, ropes shot out of her wand, spiralling towards him fast before it twisted itself around him and pulled him to the ground. He struggled, grunts escaping him as the ropes tightened around his legs and arms, keeping him in a tight body bind.

"Shh…It's all right..." Hermione said with a soothing voice as she made her way towards him. Malfoy jumped and jerked as she tried to grab his head, the effort to keep him still proving fruitless. With a determined glint in her eye, she straddled him to stop him from squirming away, pocketing her wand so she could grab his jaw with one hand and pull out a vial with light blue liquid from her robes with the other.

Malfoy continued to cringe away from her, but Hermione held on tight. Using her teeth, she pulled out the cork and spit it away, trying her best to keep her balance on the ungrateful Slytherin while she tried to keep his mouth open while simultaneously trying to stop his teeth from getting too close to her fingers.

It was with great effort that Hermione finally managed to pour the potion down his throat, using her hands to cover his mouth to force him to swallow it rather than spit it out. She felt him swallow under her hands, before he suddenly jerked, his eyes rolling back in his head for a split second before he started shivering uncontrollably. Hermione stared in panic, hoping that she had brewed the potion right. The last thing she wanted to do was kill the bane of her existence, no matter how annoying he might be.

It was the moment when his eyes closed and he stopped moving that Hermione truly felt the sense of panic tighten her chest.

"Malfoy," she whispered, a gentle shake to wake him up.

"Malfoy," she said again, pressing her hands against him harder. She felt his chest and breathed out a happy sigh when she felt the familiar rise and fall under her fingers. "Malfoy." Still, he didn't move.

Biting her lip, she raised her palm and brought it down hard, slapping him in an effort to wake him. "Draco!"

His eyes snapped open and he groaned, which only succeeded in Hermione letting out a sigh of relief.

"Wha...Granger…?" His eyes narrowed, a hand rising to touch his cheek which had turned a light shade of pink. "What the bloody hell did you do to me, woman?"

"Me?" she asked in outrage, poking her finger against his shoulder. "I just stopped you from spending the rest of your days as an animal; that's what I did."

"Really? 'Cause from right here, I think all you did was slap me." He rubbed his cheek. "And it hurts."

Hermione rolled her eyes at his innocent pout. "This would have never happened had you just stuck to your side of the table."

"And here I thought Gryffindors knew how to share."

"We do," she snapped. "But we don't share with Slytherins who steal."

His jaw dropped. "When have I ever stolen _anything_?"

"Hm…Let's see." She pressed harder and bent over so she could glare over him. "You stole my notes, my cauldron, the main ingredient to my potions project, the recent essay about animal properties I wrote-"

But Malfoy didn't let her continue. With his eyes wide, he stared at her in disbelief. "You put something in my pumpkin juice, didn't you?"

Hermione pursed her lips, her tone taking on a certain haughtiness. "You drank my potion with essence of niffler by mistake. Although how you could be so daft is beyond me."

"And you didn't stop me?" he asked incredulously.

She looked at him pointedly. "You kept elbowing me during class and dropping ink on my parchment." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I told you you'll regret it."

With great effort, he raised himself onto his elbows, his eyes narrowed. "I hope you realise that you've started a war."

Hermione chuckled, though her intestines felt twisted in knots at the disturbing way he was looking at her. "Oh, Malfoy." She leaned forward, brown eyes meeting grey and noses nearly tip to tip. "I hope you realise that you don't scare me."

He smirked slowly, the movement calculating. "I don't intend to scare you, Granger." Then, he grabbed her arms and with a strong nudge rolled her over so that he was above her, their legs still entangled and his body so close it was unsettling. "I intend to win."

Hermione was at a loss for words, acutely aware that her chest rose and fell fast against his. His eyes darkened as he bent his head closer. "And I _always_ get what I want." With an evil glint in his eye, he brushed his lips against the corner of hers lightly. But, before Hermione could react, he was off her, dusting his robes casually. "See you tomorrow at potions, Granger." With a wink, he turned to leave.

Hermione sat up and glared after him. Tomorrow, she could start brewing the potion with essence of ferret which should be ready in time for Halloween. That should be a satisfactory form of revenge for the way he always tried to unnerve her.

But, for now, she had to concentrate on slowing down her breathing and her rapidly beating heart.

.


	27. First Impressions

**A/N - Written for the Halloween Challenge over at Dramione Drabbles.  
**

* * *

**Prompts : Candy, cauldron, fairy  
**

**Title:** First Impressions

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **1201

**Warnings:** None.

.

Hermione frowned at the shop she was standing in front of before looking down at the parchment in her hand. There it was in bold letters, the name of the shop where she was to get her robes. Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, _what an odd name_. Looking over her shoulder, she spotted her parents as they continued to eye the recent contraptions they had purchased that morning; everything from a brass scale to crystal goblets and even a large cauldron held their interest as they searched for a manual that could explain to them what their only daughter could possibly do with these items. Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes with some sort of affection. She loved her parents dearly, but the interest they showed in her new life was getting a bit tiresome. It was because of this reason that she had accepted how hungry her parents were and sat down to lunch with them. But after a few moments, Hermione found herself looking around restlessly, needing nothing more than to finish everything on the shopping list of a first year so she could go home and examine all the items she had purchased. She had gotten everything but school robes, which was why she explained logically to her mother that it might be best for her to go on her own to get the uniform she was to wear for the rest of the year. Ever since she was a child, Hermione and her mother never quite saw fashion in the same light. Her mother cared about how she dressed, Hermione didn't.

With a sense of apprehensive excitement, Hermione entered the shop, her eyes keen as they studied everything around her. The shop wasn't as small as the entrance would have had people believe. Inside, there was room to spare. She watched as those roughly her age were eyeing robes, which Hermione still thought of as a rather odd piece of clothing. Coming from a Muggle background where pants and skirts were a norm, Hermione couldn't help but think that the robes were somewhat unnecessary.

"See anything you like?"

Hermione whirled around, the voice taking her by surprise. "I'm not sure."

The boy, roughly her age, eyed her warily. He had pale blond hair and the most clear grey eyes. Yet, there was a sense of coldness that she could feel radiating off of him. "You starting Hogwarts?"

Hermione nodded, unsure of how to speak to this boy who had randomly come up to her and started talking. Normally, she would have asked a million questions regarding Hogwarts and Diagon Alley, but with his demeanour, she thought he might not appreciate it. If anything, he seemed like he might get annoyed.

He walked past her to the robes she was looking at, roughly pulling them apart so he could look at them. "These won't do. This rack is for those who can't afford the best." He shoved the last robe aside, not caring that it fell off the hanger and onto the floor. "If you want the good robes, best get it from Madam Malkin herself."

Hermione simply stared at this arrogant boy before she forced a fake smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

But the boy didn't seem to want to let her leave. "Do you not like Madam Malkin's robes? They're the best, you know. Everyone in Britain comes to Diagon Alley just to get her to make them their robes."

"That's impressive," Hermione mumbled distractedly. She kept moving, eyeing the robes that hung from every inch of the shop while the boy fell into a step beside her.

"But-?" He prompted, as he watched her pull the hanger of one robe, then another.

Hermione said the first thing that popped into her head. "It reminds me of Halloween."

The boy stopped, his face a mask of confusion. "Halloween?"

"Yes, Halloween. You know, candy, costumes, trick-o-treating..."

He blinked at her. "Trick o' what?"

"You know, trick-o-treat. When children go to houses and demand adults to provide candy or to be tricked."

The boy frowned. "That seems like a very weird practice."

At that, Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "It really isn't."

The boy smiled, somewhat arrogantly but in a friendly way all the same. "Is this the first time you'll be going to Hogwarts?"

Hermione felt a soft blush creep up her cheeks. She had wanted to give the air that she knew everything, so it unnerved her that this stranger could probably sense how anxious she was. "How did you guess?"

"I'll be starting Hogwarts with everyone, although it won't be the first time I've been there." The boy smirked, his chest puffing out from pride when he realised that he had impressed her. "My father is a member of the Board of Governors. Ever since I was old enough to walk he used to take me to visit with the Headmaster. The castle seems impressive enough, although I think they could have made it a bit bigger."

Hermione's eyes widened. "It's not big enough?"

"Of course it's big enough. It's just not as big as it could be." The boy eyed her curiously. "You don't seem to know that much about Hogwarts."

She blushed, finding the fact that even this boy knew that she was a stranger, embarrassing. "I never expected to get the letter. I think my parents would have gladly believed in fairies rather than me getting a letter from a wizarding school."

The boy's look of curiosity turned into one of brief suspicion. "You're one of that sort, are you? As for me, I developed early. I could easily close doors and move things even when I was a baby. What about you?"

_What about me?_ Hermione shook her head. "There were things that happened that I couldn't quite explain, I suppose. Things that I didn't think was possible. The letter explained it all for me."

The boy looked at her in a way that no had ever had before, his expression a mix of disbelief and disgust. "What's your name?"

Unsure of how to react to this sudden shift, she stated plainly, "Hermione Granger. What's yours?"

She didn't know what she had expected, but she knew she didn't expect what he did next. Without another word, the boy turned on his heel and left, leaving Hermione completely startled and alone in the one robe shop found on Diagon Alley.

It was later, when she saw him enter the shop again -this time with a woman who could only be his mother - and smiled at him, but received nothing more than a glare, did she realise that she had offended him in some way. Why or how she offended him she could not say. Hermione watched them as they entered the shop where she had bought her robes from and frowned at the first impression she had cultivated of a typical Hogwarts student. Her father had told her that she needed to make friends. But if all her fellow classmates were going to be as charming, Hermione would rather focus on her studies and nothing else.

Who would want to be friends with wizards when wizards were so...mean? 

.


	28. Insight

**A/N - Written for the Halloween Challenge over at Dramione Drabbles.  
**

* * *

**August l Prompts : Fireflies  
**

**Title:** Insight

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

She hadn't expected to see what she did.

Picking up the fallen firefly, he looked at it curiously before aiming his wand at it and whispering something under his breath. With a twitch, the golden light became stronger and the insect took to flight, joining the rest of the fireflies out in the garden.

Hermione watched him as he looked at the flying lights longingly.

He then turned, causing her to duck behind a tree to hide until he passed.

Hermione waited until he joined the Yule Ball, wondering why she never knew that Draco Malfoy could be so kind.

.


	29. A Prisoner of Want

**A/N - Written for the Halloween Challenge over at Dramione Drabbles.  
**

* * *

**Prompts : Vampire / Portkey / Boggart**

**Title:** A Prisoner of Want and a Prisoner of Circumstance

**Rating:** PG13

**Word Count: **1311

**Warnings:** I took a bit of artistic license with the prompts. Mostly because I had this idea in my head and I really wanted to write it. If I was writing this for any other fest, I wouldn't have done it. But since this is for fun, what the heck! ;D (You'll know what I'm talking about) .

.

Hermione Granger has never been considered as an unreasonable sort of witch. She always paid her taxes, spoke out for those creatures who couldn't speak out for themselves, was an advocate for equal rights between all, was forgiving and understanding no matter what the circumstances were, and against her better judgment, visited her captive regularly even though she was always put out by the meeting.

With a long sigh, Hermione picked up _Asiatic Anti-Venoms_, a book no one but she would dare read for fear of being bored to tears before activating the item with her wand. After a moment it glowed and before long she felt the familiar pull behind her navel before it transported her to where she had to go.

Hermione landed inside the quaint cottage she had acquired for herself on the outskirts of busy London, both wizarding and Muggle. She liked that it was far enough away so that she could Apparate easily without being seen, but not too far off to raise suspicion from her extended Muggle family who had no idea about her magical capabilities. After looking over her sitting room, kitchen and library with a cursory glance, she made a mental note that everything seemed to be in order, which only left one last thing to do.

Fighting the impulse to turn to her right, she turned to her left instead, walking into the modest library she had built for herself before picking up the documents that she needed for the rest of the day. Once it was in her hands, she paused, her teeth worrying her bottom lip while her eyes fell on the door at the other end of the cottage. _The forbidden door_, she called it to herself. She really shouldn't open it and go in. If she did, she was a glutton for punishment.

With that thought in mind and with a strong resolve, Hermione started moving towards her front door, only for her feet to continue walking past it until she stopped in front of the very door she was determined not to open. _Just one peek. How could one quick glance hurt?_

Shaking off her fears, Hermione opened the door and descended the stairs to the basement she used as a storage area, her eyes adjusting to the room that had only one small window that brought in light. Cautiously, she stepped forward only to stop when a familiar voice greeted her.

"You came to see me. How special I feel."

Hermione couldn't help but narrow her eyes at the wizard seated at the other end of the basement, his grey eyes studying her intensely. "I came back for this." She lifted the documents to show him. "Not you."

He chuckled, a few strands of his pale blond hair falling into his eyes. Hermione stepped forward slowly, her eyes drinking him in. He was in the same position he had been when she had first left for work. He sat in the cell that she had magically constructed to keep him in, his tie loose and the sleeves of his white shirt folded to his elbows which he had rested casually on his raised knees. He didn't look at all like the captive he was. If anything, Draco Malfoy looked every bit the cocky, confident wizard she had always known him to be, his smirk predatory and his eyes dangerous.

"Now, now, Granger. Don't lie. We both know you missed me."

Hermione snorted. "Don't be ridiculous."

Licking his lips, he pulled himself up using the bars, his body lithe and smooth and fit. "Come over here and prove it."

The violent blush that spread across Hermione's cheeks made her feel feverish. "I'm not going anywhere near you."

He cocked his head to the side and regarded her coolly. "Why not? Afraid your fiancé might find out?"

Flexing her fingers, Hermione clenched them into tight fists, the ring on her left hand digging into her skin as a reminder. "Ron is a good person."

"But not a good shag."

"Mal-"

"Admit it," he said softly, his voice low and dangerous while his pale fingers circled the bars almost like a caress. "You're keeping me in here not to stop me from getting out, but to stop you from getting in."

Almost without thought, Hermione gulped. "N -No. That's not-"

His smirk widened devilishly. "Then why keep me in here, Granger? Why treat me like a Boggart that scares you? I don't scare you, do I?"

"N-No. I'm not scared."

"Could have fooled me. Why put me in a cage if you're not scared of me? Or are you scared of what_ you_ would do?"

Hermione's gaze narrowed. "I am_ not_ weak."

"No," he said casually before his eyes raked her from head to toe, his gaze so intense and slow that Hermione felt the sudden need to pull the robes she wore defensively tighter. "You're not weak. You're mine and you won't admit it."

Hermione shook her head. "No. I'm not yours. Y-You're vile and awful. You suck out all the good in my life. Like a Dementor or a-a vampire," she finished meekly.

He only laughed. "Are you afraid that I will ruin your perfect little life, Granger? Are you afraid of your feelings for me?"

This was getting too much. "I have to go," she mumbled shakily.

His grin fell. "Don't leave."

Hermione was already walking away.

"Granger," he snapped. "Don't you dare leave me in here, Granger." He hit the bars in an effort to get her attention. "Granger!" His fingers curled around the bars and rattled it with all his might. "Granger!"

But Hermione couldn't take it anymore. Turning on her heel she ran as fast as her legs could carry her; up the stairs, into the sitting room to pick up the Portkey. With a quick incantation it was activated, bringing her back to her office.

"Finally!" Ron stood up from her seat in greeting, causing Hermione to let out a shaky smile. "I thought you had forgotten about the meeting."

"I didn't," she said quickly, trying her best to slow down her rapidly beating heart.

"You okay?"

Hermione forced out a small smile. "I'm fine."

Just as Ron was about to ask her another question, they were interrupted.

"Granger! Where in Merlin have you been? We've needed those documents ten minutes ago."

Ron's gaze narrowed. "Shut it, Malfoy. She's back, isn't she?"

Malfoy's gaze narrowed. "I can see that, Weasel. But it's good to know that your logical deduction skills are not as bad as I once thought."

Recognizing the signs of a fight that was about to erupt, Hermione placed a comforting hand on her fiancés chest to stop him from stepping forward, not missing the sudden spark that lit a pair of familiar grey eyes. "It's alright, Ron. Let's go."

Ron's anger seemed to evaporate before he nodded in agreement, throwing a quick glare at Malfoy before he put an arm around Hermione and held her close. "We should hurry."

Hermione nodded, keeping her gaze fixed solely on Ron and not on the blond.

Ron led her out of the office, shoving his shoulder against Malfoy's just to make a point. Hermione tried to keep her gaze away from her co-worker but failed. Malfoy studied her silently as she passed him, a stormy mood settling behind his usually cool gaze.

"I forgot," Ron began conversationally when they were about to step into the meeting. "I'll be able to come over tonight to handle that Boggart you have in your basement. George wants it for some trick he's playing tomorrow for Halloween. Can get rid of the pesky little bugger for good."

"Great," Hermione mumbled, her thoughts resting on the creature that she had caught not more than three days ago. "It would be good to finally be rid of it."

.


	30. A Prank To Remember

**A/N - Written for the Halloween Challenge over at Dramione Drabbles.  
**

* * *

**Prompts : Chocolate / Enchanted / Banshee**

**Title:** A Prank To Remember

**Rating:** PG13

**Word Count: **1255

**Warnings:** None.

.

It had started innocently enough. A simple jinx that may or may not have gone wayward and hit an unsuspecting innocent rather than the slimy Slytherin it was intended for. A tiny jinx that wouldn't have done much harm unless the recipient happened to have frizzy curls that no magic could tame and a level of anger that could only feed the lightening energy that travelled down to the ends of her messy strands.

Hermione Granger stood there in the middle of the classroom, completely surprised, with her hair pointing high towards the ceiling while everyone tried their best to choke back laughter; everyone, save for one slimy Slytherin.

Draco Malfoy practically bent into two while laughing long and hard, giving his minions the perfect opportunity to chuckle along with him at the ridiculous image Hermione made. Then slowly, one by one the rest of the class couldn't hold it in and they were outright _laughing._

With a silent 'eep' and a sheepish smile, Ron pocketed his wand and pointed quickly at Malfoy with a telling expression when his best friend's gaze landed on him. When her eyes narrowed with the threat of a promise at the blond who was clutching onto Goyle's robes for fear of falling amidst laughter, Ron realised that he had made the right decision. An angry Hermione was a force to be reckoned with. He'd rather gently manoeuvre that threat towards someone much more deserving.

Seamus leant towards Ron just as McGonagall entered the classroom to start the lesson, her expression grim and her eyes far from amused. "Looks like we're in for it, aren't we? A war to end all wars. My Galleon's on Hermione."

"Yeah," Ron mumbled distractedly as he saw Hermione look at Malfoy with anger bordering on hatred; an expression he hadn't seen since Umbridge had been at Hogwarts and refused to teach them. "And it's only Monday."

* * *

When Harry entered the Gryffindor classroom after a really tiring Quidditch practice, he couldn't help but notice something strange. Hermione was _not _sitting near the fireplace reading nor was she sitting at the table and doing her homework. She was simply sitting down and waiting alone. It was a strange image if there was ever one. Before he or Ron could even state a proper greeting, Dean burst through, excitement making his cheeks flush with laughter.

"Quick! Malfoy's streaking around Hogwarts! McGonagall thinks he's mad!" And without waiting for a response from the stunned silence of the Gryffindor common room, he ran out.

Almost immediately, everyone scrambled to the door, leaving Harry, Hermione and Ron. "C'mon," Ron said with a big grin as he dropped his broom. "Let's hurry before we miss the good stuff."

But Harry found himself distracted. He saw a small smile play on Hermione's lips as her eyes fell on the fireplace, one so small that he couldn't help but wonder if it was a smile at all.

"Well, this has been fun." Calmly, Hermione stood up. "I think it's time for me to go study." Without another word she moved quickly towards the staircase that leads to the girl's dormitory. Harry watched her leave, all the while focusing on how she seemed to have a spring in her step.

Ron squinted at her disappearing form thoughtfully. "You don't think..."

Harry shook his head. "...Nah." On the other hand, he wasn't that sure, now that he thought about it.

* * *

Minerva pursed her lips as she turned the corner, the commotion drawing her attention. As all bad things usually began, this too had two students in the middle of a large circle of students while they looked on with the greatest excitement. There were even a few first years who were trying to squeeze through the thick crowd of seniors to see what was happening. Huffing in annoyance, she cleared her throat, making her presence known and causing one section of the circle of students to shuffle on either side, parting just enough to let her through.

What she saw took all her years of training not to cause her eyes to widen.

There stood Hermione Granger in the middle of the crowd with a hand around her throat while Draco Malfoy knelt before her, his arms wide and an expression across his face that would make anyone think that he was absolutely smitten with her.

"Well, Granger, will you marry me?"

Minerva didn't think it was possible, but she nearly choked on air. She would have suffered a heart attack too if she didn't try to control her breathing.

Just as Granger opened her mouth to reply, she saw everyone cover their ears, including Malfoy. Out of pure instinct, she did the same, her expression confused and her fear for what was about to happen imminent.

It was a good choice to follow the students. For when Granger spoke, her eyes narrowed and her anger evident, the hall shook. What came out of her mouth was a high pitched shriek, one so violent that its vibrations shattered a glass window that happened to be next to an already shattered window that Minerva hadn't noticed until then.

When Granger stopped, Malfoy's grin widened. "Your voice is the sweetest sound, my love," he shouted, his hands still covering his ears.

"What in Merlin's name?" Minerva asked shakily.

"It's a prank, Professor," a fourth year Hufflepuff who happened to be near her said with utter glee. "Malfoy decided to turn Granger into a Banshee for Halloween. He said she might as well be her true self on the night dedicated to all freaks."

"And what, pray tell, has happened to Mr Malfoy?" Minerva questioned, her eyes widening when Malfoy grabbed Granger's hand and started kissing her finger tips while Granger tried her best to pull away to no avail.

"No idea," the student said with a shrug. "Someone _did_ say that he might have a thing for monsters."

Minerva balked. She had heard enough. With a strong, authoritative voice she said in no uncertain terms for all students to leave; all except the reluctant couple who were still fighting each other, one pulling away and the other holding on to her for dear life. As the students parted, her gaze fell on two other wayward students whose faces she wasn't at all surprised to see.

"You too, Mr Weasley, Mr Potter."

With their eyes wide, they tried to hide what they had been doing behind their backs.

"Betting on your friends with Chocolate Frog Cards is a poor showing on your part," Minerva said with a stern voice.

"Not if you're not betting _against _your friend," Weasley mumbled sheepishly.

With a sigh, Minerva told them to scoot before she turned her attention back to the problem at hand. Granger was still trying to squirm away while Malfoy shuffled after her on his knees, his hands clutching her robes and spouting out nonsense about love and her beauty.

If this was any other day, this would probably be the only incident. But Halloween tended to bring out the worst pranksters with the worst intentions.

"Your hair is as messy and beautiful as a pit full of snakes, Granger."

Minerva pursed her lips at the awful display of affection by Malfoy as she prepared to usher them towards the Hospital Wing to see Poppy. No doubt she would find this amusing. Granger and Malfoy together was a thought that no sane, sober or logical person could ever envision. Why, the propensity for murder would just be too high.

.


	31. Duck and Run

**A/N - Written for the monthly DMHG challenge.  
**

* * *

**Prompts : Weather the storm  
**

**Title:** Duck and Run (or There's More Than One Way To Weather A Storm)

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

A tug. "Quiet. They'll see."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione shuffled her feet sideways, not unlike a crab.

"What did you _do_?"

"Nothing."

"Draco..."

"I _may_ have mentioned something that they might know."

She stopped, ignoring the insistent poking. "Like what?"

"I don't know," Draco mumbled. "Something about what knickers you pref-"

"Hermione!"

Hermione smiled sheepishly at her friends, fighting the urge to kick the person behind her.

A tug, a trip and a scuttle later, Harry stared at her sans a large black bulk.

"Did Draco Malfoy just come out of your robes?"

"…No?"

.


	32. A Deadly Cycle

**A/N - Written for the monthly Halloween Challenge on Dramione Drabbles  
**

* * *

**Prompts : A Deadly Cycle  
**

**Title:** Ghost / Cemetery / Pixie

**Rating:** PG13

**Word Count: **1187

**Warnings:** None.

.

Shivering slightly, Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and continued walking through the cemetery. She had never thought in her wildest dreams that one day she would be walking through a place that hosted thousands of dead bodies on Halloween to deal with an issue of the living. The irony wasn't lost on her. She couldn't wait to finish what she had to do so she could go back to Hogwarts and snuggle into a plush chair beside the fire with a good book. She rather preferred the fire to the Professor's common room rather than the modest flame that burned bright in her own. The chitter chatter of the other Professors after a hard day of disciplining the students made her feel a certain warmth inside her; she couldn't help but be transported back to when she was a student who spent her evenings in Gryffindor tower trying to tune out Parvati and Lavender's hushed tones. But just as quickly as her thoughts had turned to Hogwarts, they turned away.

As a person who had never really thought about boys, relationships and marriage, it surprised her that when the time came and everyone she knew of her age started pairing up and getting married, she felt awful about it. She was in her late twenties, after all; she knew her career came first and she worked hard to get where she was, but that didn't stop the tiny ache she felt whenever she saw people congratulating a newly married couple. And of recently, there seemed to be a wedding to attend every fortnight. She had taken to talking over her immaturity with Moaning Myrtle, of all spirits. The ghostly advice she had given had bordered on rude and was plainly unsympathetic.

Hermione felt a gnawing guilt in the pit of her stomach at the memory of what had happened just a few hours before. She couldn't forget his face; the way he had blinked at her in surprise for a few moments before he had turned on his heel and left. She had stood there, internally yelling at herself for letting her insecurities come to the surface. Part of her even blamed Myrtle for the advice the ghost had given her. After all, whatever arrangement she had with him, wasn't one that was similar to a relationship. She couldn't even imagine what a relationship would look like with Malfoy.

Draco, she mentally corrected herself. Whatever that had been happening between them had gone to such a new level that she couldn't help but blush at the thought. His very presence made her do things that she would have never thought she would ever do. There was always something frantic between them; something that started from anger and annoyance and ended quite abruptly with feeling more pleasurable and confused.

Hermione felt her blush deepen as her steps started to slow down. She had been walking for quite some time and she couldn't understand why Malfoy - Draco - would want to meet her here of all places when it was obvious that he wanted to end what they had, the thought of which made her sad.

"Hermione."

She felt a shiver run down her spine as she turned to face him. He called her Granger when he was angry, annoyed or horny. He hardly ever called her 'Hermione'.

"Hold this".

Before Hermione could even guess what was happening, he dropped a huge bundle of bags, each one heavier than the last, into her arms. "Malfoy-"

He smirked as he grabbed her arm. "Let's go hunting."

Hermione decided to try again, even as she willingly followed him. "Would you like to tell me why you asked me to meet you in a cemetery? And what are we hunting?"

He gave her an expression that made her think that she should have known better. "Pixies," he said in an obvious tone. "McGonagall said that there have been attacks in this area. Since I'm low on Pixie dust, I thought this is the perfect opportunity to get some."

Hermione stopped in her tracks, causing him to look at her curiously. "You didn't think of going to Diagon Alley and paying for it?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Granger," he said with a snort. "If I can get it for free, why shouldn't I?"

"So, _that's_ why I'm here?"

He shrugged. "It's a two-person job."

Hermione didn't think she could be so annoyed. Dropping the bags unceremoniously onto the grass, she turned and proceeded to stomp away from him.

"And where do you think you're going?" Malfoy asked as he jogged after her, his long legs keeping up with her easily.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts. I'd rather be warm and happy instead of cold and miserable," she snapped over her shoulder.

He grabbed her arm to stop her. "I make you miserable?"

Hermione tried to yank her arm free, though she couldn't help but feel a tad bit awkward about what she had implied. "No. I just... I just want to go back to Hogwarts."

Surprisingly, he didn't let her go. "What you said earlier, did you mean it?"

She bit her lip nervously. She would rather go back to talking about Pixies. "I-" She wished she could read his eyes the way she could easily read others. But even though there were moments where she could, they were entirely too few. "Draco..."

That made him let her go. "Fine," he said curtly. "It's done then."

Even though Hermione had wanted to end what they had, hearing him say the words left an empty space in her chest. "I'm sorry."

He simply nodded as he picked up the bags which she now knew had jars in them. Hermione watched him for a moment before she decided to leave once again.

The next day when Hermione entered her Transfiguration classroom, she couldn't help but notice the solitary Pixie as it fought diligently within the confines of the small cage placed on her desk. Underneath it was a parchment with a time and place written on it, something that Hermione knew what a certain pure-blood wizard expected of her. She had ended it just the day before, how he couldn't get that through his thick skull was beyond her. Hermione spent the day diligently ignoring the parchment until before she knew it, she was entering the empty classroom at the time Malfoy had told her to. As usual, he was there alone; and as usual, he completely ignored the conversation she had had with him by advancing on her and kissing her hard and fast. Hermione let herself melt into his arms before she pulled back.

"Okay. But, just this once," she said breathlessly.

He smirked, his fingers already removing her robes. "Just this once," he promised before he pulled her in for another mind-blowing kiss.

Hermione let herself give in to the charms of her former childhood enemy while he pushed her up against the door and his lips attacked her throat. For her own sanity's sake, she decided to disregard the fact that he had promised the same thing six months ago.

.


	33. A Not So Reluctant Sacrifice

**A/N - Written for the monthly Halloween Challenge on Dramione Drabbles  
**

* * *

**********Prompts : **Candles / Manor / Veela

******Title:** A Not So Reluctant Sacrifice

**Rating:** R

**Word Count: **260

**Warnings:** None.

.

It had started with a subtle smile, then a greeting and before long, Hermione Granger found herself talking to Draco Malfoy on a daily basis. She considered them friends while he considered them mates. He sent her countless books to prove that she was his intended lover and that before All Hallow's Eve following his twenty-first birthday, he had to bond with his mate or suffer a painful death. Hermione spent weeks researching this phenomenon and reluctantly agreed to meet him at the Manor so they could complete the ritual for the final stage of his transformation. She even ignored the fact that her skin tingled with expectation; telling herself that it was nerves not excitement.

After a spell told amongst candlelight, he kissed her, and against her best efforts she couldn't be indifferent. Their kisses were passionate; his caresses gentle, while he murmured her name against her skin and made her body thrum with pleasure.

It was well past midnight when Hermione suddenly realised that he hadn't exhibited any of the signs that was expected.

She narrowed her gaze at him. "You're not a Veela, are you?"

Malfoy smirked, his grip tightening around her as his lips moved to the hollow of her neck. "You did say that you wouldn't sleep with a co-worker unless it was life or death."

Hermione was just about to give him a piece of her mind when he kissed her into submission. Then as his hand trailed down her body to rest between her thighs, she decided to forgive him. Just this once.

.


	34. The Realism of the Thing

**A/N - Written for the monthly DMHG Challenge on LJ  
**

* * *

**********Prompt : Beedle the Bard**

******Title:** The Realism of the Thing

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"That's grotesque."

"_That's _'Snow White'."

Draco looked at Hermione pointedly. "It's ridiculous. Everyone knows that when you have the chance you should poison your enemies with a potion to kill, not give them something that a Prince could kiss away. And an apple? Ridiculous!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And I suppose the stories you were told made more sense?"

"Of course. 'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot' will teach the boy everything he'd need to know."

"Why do you think that Muggle stories don't hold any weight?"

"Granger, I've seen Pansy kiss Weasel countless times… and he's still a toad."

.


	35. It's Pumpkin

**A/N - Written for the monthly DMHG Halloween Challenge  
**

* * *

**********Prompt : Pumpkin**

******Title:** It's Pumpkin

**Rating:** PG13

**Word Count: **378

**Warnings:** None.

.

Draco found Halloween as much fun as attending a solo class with McGonagall. He didn't understand the need to dress up, nor did he understand the need to decorate, nor did he understand the need to scare one another. If people wanted to get scared, they could bloody well think back to the days when the Dark Lord was running rampant and making people 'disappear'. Hermione, on the other hand, _loved _Halloween and therefore, Draco had no choice but to tolerate it.

As per her instructions he decided that the first Halloween following their wedding should be special. If she wanted to see bats and ghouls and hideous dead people, then that was what he intended to do. However, as a novice to all things scary, he thought of employing the help of two of the scariest people he knew.

In retrospect, Potter and Weasel turned out to be more troublesome than helpful, even if they _did _somehow manage to lend a reluctant hand to ensure that he finished decorating in time. Weasel quite enjoyed handling the candy and tricks while Potter insisted that there was nothing more 'Halloween' than pumpkin. Following their examples, Draco got everything ready and when his wife walked in after a hard day's work, he held out his arms proudly with a small scowl on his face (he was selfless, after all; that's never easy to be) and waited patiently for her shock, awe, happiness followed by a long night of shagging to show her appreciation.

Hermione looked around from the carved out pumpkins, the pumpkin pie and the pumpkin juice to the hideous pumpkin faces that decorated their sitting room and pursed her lips mockingly.

"Too much pumpkin," was the only thing she said.

Growling, Draco tackled her before hauling her over his shoulder and marching her to their bedroom, quite enjoying her musical laugh as she pointed out that he really needed to consult her to get Halloween right next time around.

Draco didn't care; they had a lifetime to get Halloween right. He just wanted to hex Potter and Weasel the next time he saw them.

But for now, all he could think about as he dropped her unceremoniously on their bed was how much he wanted _his_ Halloween treat.

.


	36. Quite Ordinary

**A/N - Written for the the October fest 2011 on LJ  
**

* * *

**********Prompt : A journey of a thousand miles starts with a quick stumble**

******Title:** Quite Ordinary

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **1234

**Warnings:** Fluff, fluff and more fluff.

.

It started with a subtle smile. Hermione had been so surprised that she had looked behind her to see whether it was meant for her; but when she saw nothing but a blank expanse of wall, she couldn't help but think that the person who was indeed smiling at her had gone completely mad. Keeping her head low, she avoided his gaze and continued on with her work, wondering why a small smile - although far from sincere and was bordering on a smirk - made her feel flustered like a hormonal teenager.

This surprising phenomenon was then followed by greetings. While before he had walked passed her with his head held high and ignoring her very presence, Hermione found that the lack of acknowledging her was better for her nerves than hearing a curt 'Granger' in the mornings whenever he happened to run into her. At first, she wasn't sure what she should be doing; whether she should ignore him the way she had always done or maybe open a field of communication so she could one day be acquaintances with him. In the end, she decided on her own curt, 'Malfoy' so they could be considered equal in their greetings. What she didn't expect was a small smile and a sparkle in his eye when she greeted him first without waiting for his friendly nod. Then he said it, the name that made her eyes widen in surprise and almost stiffen in dread.

"Hermione," he said with a smirk before he passed her by.

Naturally, Hermione had found herself fallen into a conundrum. Should she use his first name or surname? Surely, what she said next would set the tone for the rest of their future greetings. Ultimately, feeling that it would not do to let him know that he made her feel uncomfortable, during the next greeting she used his first name. Unsurprisingly, his smirk had widened and Hermione had thought that that was the end of it.

...until he brought her coffee the next morning.

Hermione had stared at the innocent looking mug with steaming brew before she did a few charms to find out if it had been cursed in any way. Then she poured it into a plant to see if it withered and died. Her Secretary, who had grown tired of her boss's suspicion, rolled her eyes and took a sip of it. Hermione didn't sit and wait for her Secretary to say, 'I told you so' with that look of hers. Instead, she purchased an extra muffin the next day so she could hand it over to her new acquaintance in exchange for the coffee he gave her.

This was the beginning of a tradition that Hermione never thought that she would ever be a part of. Each morning they would greet each other with a friendly, "Draco" and "Hermione", they would then exchange a mug of piping hot coffee and a blueberry muffin and sometimes, they would even talk about what was in store for their day at the Ministry. Little by little, day by day, Hermione started giving advice to Draco - as she called him in her head - and she in turn started confiding in him with issues that she generally had during work. Gradually, she started looking forward to their meetings every morning, hardly conscious of the fact that although it had started as a curt greeting, for the past few weeks, they usually spent roughly half an hour in each other's company while they sipped coffee and munched on a blueberry muffin.

All was well...until he asked her to visit an exhibition with him. Hermione stupidly agreed; she was convinced that there was no one else in her life who would be interested in art the way she was and she would rather go with someone who wanted to go instead of dragging Harry, Ron or Ginny against their will. The non-date proved to be a success. It was so successful, in fact, that the exhibition was then followed by coffee and scones, which was then followed by dinner, then dancing, and before Hermione knew it, she was seeing Draco Malfoy more times in a week than she saw her own friends.

Naturally, this had to stop. She knew there was no future with the two of them and that he was most probably promised to another high society witch, as all pure-blood wizards were at their age. To make matters worse, she was enjoying herself when she was around him. It was true that when they were together they argued constantly. He was more adventurous in his choice of food while she preferred what she always knew was good. She was a fan of modern art while he rather liked the classical renditions and called what she liked as a 'messy accident'. They never could agree on where to eat, so it became a habit to play an intellectual game of twenty questions so that the victor would be given the choice. And depending on who won, the choice of desert was generally left to the loser, for no non-date could ever end while one held the power.

Hermione's parents complained that they hardly ever hear from her and her friends complained that they hardly ever see her. Yet, at the end of the day when something big happens, she can't help but want to tell Draco, whether it be good or bad. And so it continued, their pseudo-friendship that Hermione had started to rely on...until he kissed her.

As surprised as she was, Hermione hadn't pushed him away. After that followed more snarky comments - from her, not from him - and a lot of smirking - from him, not from her, and before long they went on their first date reluctantly. Their dates were very similar to their non-dates except for the tiny factor of being able to snog at the end of it. It took two weeks for him to try to get her into bed and four weeks for her to let him; and to this day she wouldn't be able to regret the decision even if she tried. Her friends were sullen, but they soon came to accept him and Draco was far from courteous towards her best friends but by threatening to withhold sex, she managed to nip that problem in the bud. Weeks turned into months, months turned into years and during their fiftieth fight, he proposed. Hermione was so annoyed, she accepted.

The wedding was a disaster, the few family members on the Malfoy side who did attend acting aloof while the Weasleys who had appointed themselves as her bodyguards managed to create problems even with their good intentions. Luna looked radiant, Ron drank too much, and Draco kissed his mother on the cheek without mentioning the absence of his father. But after the ceremony and the drinking did they finally grin at each other and leave for their honeymoon.

It was only years later as they looked down into her arms at the grey eyes and brown locks of their baby that Hermione couldn't help but chuckle at all that had happened. Who would have ever thought, that when she and Malfoy started their relationship that their courtship would be quite so ordinary. And ordinary their history may be, but it created something extraordinary in the form of their son.

.


	37. In The Still Of The Night

**A/N - Written for the the Dramione Drabble Halloween Challenge  
**

* * *

**********Prompts : Broomstick/Mummy/Lantern**

******Title:** In The Still of The Night

**Rating:** PG13

**Word Count: **1131

**Warnings:** Nothing but craziness.

.

On a cold, foggy night of All Hallow's Eve, an old man shadowed in darkness, limped on. It had been a tiring journey; one where he had crossed great lakes and high mountains, unfriendly foes and treacherous lands. But still in the still darkness he took one step at a time, his body ragged and his limbs aching.

The graveyard he entered hadn't been visited in years. Too isolated, it was, from those of the living. But the old man was comfortable with the nervous prickle of his skin as he winded through the marked graves of all those who had walked the earth before him, all the while armed with a lantern that shed an orange glow eerily around him.

The moon was out and the stars, none. On and on he went, each step a painful jab against his hip and his lungs burning with need of air. But he must continue, for it was the only way.

The deeper he treated into the lands, the more difficult it was to walk. Pulling out a sharp, short blade he hacked at the weeds that had grown entangled, each swipe a hurtful throb against the bone of his wrist while his breath came out in short gasps of pain. It was with great trepidation that he reached the large tomb standing tall in the middle of the lands, its black marble shining with a polished glow from the silvery moonlight.

The old man searched through his haggard black robes for a large key, one that was rusted for lack of use but will prove effective enough. He slipped in the key easily, the large clanging an unwelcome sound for when the tomb was unlocked.

In, the old man went, his limp more pronounced as he went down the marble steps one step at a time. The large tomb was filled with riches that no mortal could ever imagine, yet, he only wished to release the one treasure that was lying in its own black casket in the middle of the room. Limping forward, the lantern was placed down beside him and the sleeves of his robes rolled up. With a grunt, then a heave, the old man pushed against the marble. At his age, it took more strength, more determination to shift the heavy casket lid; yet, with a final prayer to all things good, he succeeded.

With his work done, he let out a long sigh and stepped back, his eyes falling on the moon as he waited. It took barely a few moments. A dark cloud passed by and the moonlight fell on the casket, its silvery glow marking the time and place. Bony, dead fingers clawed out and circled the open lid of the casket before it pushed away the cover easily, the scraping of marble against marble the only sound to pierce the silence.

Once there was sufficient room, another hand made its appearance, pushing out the inhabitant slowly. The rotting corpse that stepped out moved painstakingly, its limbs heavy and its movement slow. Once it stepped out, it smiled though if it was a sneer hidden in disguise the old man couldn't say. The man had visited this corpse regularly for years, bringing ointment to rub on its rotten flesh and bandages to keep its limbs from falling. After many a year of such visits, the corpse was more cloth than bone and skin; strips of thin, white, cotton cloth wrapped tightly around its arms, its legs, its torso, its chest, and even its face.

The old man did not wait before he picked up the lantern and limped up the stairs, trusting the corpse to follow slowly and painfully, while his bones creaked. They crossed the graveyard together, making an odd pair before they reached another tomb, one less lush but just as giant. With shaking hands and hope tightening his chest, the old man repeated it all, step by step, the key, the limp down the stairs and the shoving of marble.

Together the corpse and the man waited as green fingers circled itself around the lid of the casket before revealing a creature that climbed out slowly, the movement of the limbs lithe, flexible and almost human.

Together, the corpse and the green witch stared at each other.

"Granger."

"Malfoy."

The old man waited sat down on the cold steps and waited.

The corpse stepped forward, its eyes blazing with pain. "Finally ready to apologise?"

The witch snorted, crossing her arms across her chest. "No. What about you? Are _you_ ready to apologise?"

"Why would I need to apologise? This is all your fault!"

"I didn't start it. You were the one who cursed me first!"

"Only because you wore that hideous costume in the first place."

"This," she sneered, gesturing to herself, "is a classic. Everyone knows the Wicked Witch of the West is a proper costume for Halloween. What you wanted me to wear was red, short and lacy."

"I should have dropped a house on you when I had the chance," the corpse muttered darkly.

The witch gasped. "You take that back."

"Only if you take back the curse you put on me."

For the first time, she smirked. "It's your own fault for dressing as a Mummy in the first place. How is it, living in bandages?"

"Bloody itchy, that's how. Listen here, Granger, you're going to take off this curse right-"

"I wonder where my broom is." She looked around.

"Why? To fly off?" the corpse cackled.

"All the better to beat you with, my dear."

"So I would finally give in and lift the curse?"

"No," the witch said with a humourless smile. "To make myself feel better."

"You do look awfully horrendous."

"As do you, my love."

"If you don't lift this curse-"

"And let you prance around human while you let me stay green and warty? If you think that I would fall for that one..."

"You are being selfish."

"And you are being a _jerk_!"

"Fine. Then go back to sleeping for three hundred and sixty four days until next Halloween."

"Fine. I will," the witch huffed before she turned on her heel and climbed back into her tomb. "Good luck falling to pieces."

"Oh, I'll enjoy it. I'll revel in it while you stay ugly forever."

She pulled at the casket lid. "Fine. Enjoy it."

"Fine. I will."

"Fine," she said finally before she lied back down and closed the lid over her.

_"Fine,"_ the corpse snapped before his glance fell on the old man calmly. "Shall we?"

The old man rolled his eyes and stood up shakily, the lantern still in his hand before he started limping back out, the corpse at his heels.

_Maybe next year_, he told himself. _Maybe next year. _

.


	38. The Knight V The Ogre

**A/N - I know I haven't been publishing any DHr drabbles as frequently as I have before, but I'm currently working on a multi-chapter project for the Dramione Remix challenge that is sapping all of my creativity. Can't seem to be inspired by any prompts these days. But luckily, I saw these prompts and jotted something down short.**

**Written for the Valentine's Day Challenge over at Dramione Drabbles**

* * *

**********Prompts : Cupid/Panties/Incarcerous**

******Title:** The Knight V. The Ogre

**Rating:** PG13

**Word Count: **318

**Warnings:** Suggestive kinkiness.

.

"Once upon a time, in a Kingdom far, far away, there lived a baby named Cupid who used to shoot people with arrows-"

"That sounds violent."

Her husband glared at her. "Do you mind?"

Hermione shrugged. "Fine. Continue."

Giving her a pointed look, he looked at his sleeping daughter. "Then an evil wizard used the most evil magic to turn Cupid evil. Cupid turned so evil that he shot a beautiful Princess so she would be paired with a poor, messy, evil, red-headed git named-"

"Draco!"

"Ogre," he amended. "Named Ro-"

"And then she met another git named-"

"You're stealing my story."

"And you're not saying it right."

"How about you let me finish before you make a judgement?"

Hermione sighed. "Fine."

Draco continued. "One day, the most handsome and richest Knight of all the land who also happened to have a great head of golden locks-"

Hermione snorted, only to earn a glare from the story-teller. "At least his hair was better than the Princess'."

Finding his rendition extremely insulting, Hermione pinched him, to which her husband responded by snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her flush against him. "What did the Prince do then?"

"He turned the Cupid good again so that the Princess could fall in love with the Knight."

"Did they live happily ever after?"

"They did. And the Princess was so happy that she put on lacy knickers and allowed the Prince to tie her up and ravage her ceaselessly."

Hermione laughed. "You're lucky our child is only a year old."

"No," Draco said mischievously. "You're lucky she's a deep sleeper."

Before Hermione could say anything else, Draco had tossed her over his shoulder, making her stifle a surprised yelp as she was hauled bodily into their bedroom.

Her body thrummed with excitement at the thought of what he planned to do to her. What a wonderful Valentine's Day this turned out to be.

.

**HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY EVERYBODY! :D**


	39. Battle of the Boxes

**A/N - Written for the monthly DMHG Challenge on LJ**

* * *

**********Prompt : Boxing Day**

******Title:** Battle of the Boxes

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

Ron breezed past her the moment she opened the door.

"Where are you going?"

"It's Boxing Day."

"And?" She watched him as he went straight into her bedroom.

"And I'm taking out the trash."

A yelp, a scuttle and a few well-placed insults later, Hermione sighed and entered the room.

_"Get… in… the… box… Malfoy."_

Draco grunted as he tried to push Ron's head into the box just as Ron pushed his.

_"You… get… into… the… box… Weaslebee."_

They shoved each other, pushed each other and asked her for help.

Hermione sighed. At some point, this tradition had to stop.

.


	40. A Perfect Discovery

**A/N - Written for the Petulant Poetess Challenge**

* * *

**********Prompt : A determined search for the perfect cup of coffee leads to an even more satisfying discovery.**

******Title:** A Perfect Discovery

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **498

**Warnings:** None.

.

Draco Malfoy stared at the steaming mug of liquid that was placed before him. He was seven years old, and already he could tell that he wouldn't like it. But his mother had been insistent.

_"Whatever they serve you, take it. Your father's family is very strict on etiquette. They wouldn't look too kindly on anybody refusing anything that's offered."_

Hesitatingly, he placed his lips on the rim and delicately took a sip, trying to ignore the expectant looks from his family.

It was, therefore, a complete reflex when he spit out the drink to the surprised gasp of his mother.

Needless to say, his aunt never served him coffee again.

* * *

"Your coffee, Master Malfoy."

Draco sneered, his head rising from the book he was reading. "Have you taken complete leave of your senses? You know how I detest the bloody thing."

The house-elf's eyes immediately brimmed with unshed tears, his ears wilting in the face of his master's glare. "Dobby is so sorry, Master Malfoy. Dobby never meant to insult," he whispered. "Dobby was only following Lady Malfoy's orders."

Draco fought the guilt that was settling in his chest. He was a Malfoy, after all. And Malfoys didn't care for creatures beneath them. "It's my father who drinks coffee. Next time, get your orders straight."

Shivering from fear, the house-elf bowed low before leaving with a loud crack. It was a moment later when Draco noticed the steaming mug still placed beside him. Out of pure curiosity, he took a sip and found it quite tolerant.

"Not bad," he muttered to himself, before going back to his book.

* * *

"I don't understand this fascination that Muggles have with coffee. Why is it that many proclaim that they can't start the day without it? The idea is preposterous."

Smiling knowingly, Hermione placed a cup of coffee before him the way she knew he liked it. And as every morning, Draco took a sip while his eyes studied the Daily Prophet.

"I don't see why you're complaining," she said. "The only reason we met was because of your great search."

Draco placed down the newspaper. "What great search?"

Hermione stood up, preparing to clear the table. "The search for the perfect cup of coffee, of course."

As she passed him, Draco tugged at her hand, effectively bringing her down onto his lap. "I knew there had to be a cup out there that was more than a little tolerable."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "And the search stopped at my apartment?"

"Of course," Draco said seriously. "Those who make the best coffee make the best wives."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Is that why you married me? Because of how I made you coffee?"

"Don't be absurd," he said. "I married you because you're Muggle-born."

"And why was it important that you marry a Muggle-born?"

"My dear Mrs Malfoy," Draco said with a smirk. "Everyone knows that Muggle-borns make the best cups of coffee."

.


	41. The Easy Way

**A/N - Written for the DMHG Challenge on LJ**

* * *

**********Prompt : Celtic Magick**

******Title:** The Easy Way

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

Even though she was sceptical, Hermione found herself disappointed when nothing changed.

"It didn't work?" Ginny asked her.

"No." Hermione sighed. "I should have figured that it was a bogus ritual."

It was then that Draco Malfoy strode purposefully towards her, pulled her close, kissed her passionately only to let go just as suddenly and with a wink, walk away.

Ginny stared after him. "Who told you that Celtic magick could attract the person you're meant to be with?"

"Malfoy," Hermione answered breathlessly, confused by his behaviour.

"That prat!"

"What?"

"He could have just asked you out on a date."

.

**A/N - I just wanted to thank all those who review and favourite these drabbles. I know I don't say it enough, but your reviews really make me want to update this even though the formatting on is not easy to work with. Thanks for your encouraging words. I love that you still read this :)**


	42. A Selfless Sacrifice

**A/N - Written for the DMHG Challenge on LJ. And thank you for the encouraging reviews :)**

* * *

**********Prompt : Practical Joke**

******Title:** A Selfless Sacrifice

**Rating:** PG13

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** A little bit of slang. Also, I refuse to kill a Weasley twin.

.

_"There once was a blondish prick,  
Who defied all that's good by shagging a Gryffindor chick,  
If he tries to lay her once more,  
In sunshine, rain or snow,  
He will be the proud owner of a bright blue di-"_

Hermione pulled the note from her lover's hand in surprise. "This was sent to you?"

Draco nodded. "Along with a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes product that I didn't know existed."

"You don't think the twins _actually_ drugged your food, do you?"

"I don't know," Draco said, his expression one of grave seriousness. "But I'm willing to have sex to find out."

.


	43. What's in a Name?

**A/N - Sorry I've been MIA recently. I found the format really difficult to work with here, but now with the new changes, I'll be updating all of my Harry Potter fanfiction here regularly. **

* * *

**Prompt : Lucius**

**Title: **What's in a Name?

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"Say 'Mama'…"

"His first word is going to be 'Father'." Draco looked at his son sternly. "Say 'Father'."

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she kept her son close. "That word is too difficult for his first time."

"Nonsense. He's a Malfoy," Draco said proudly. "We make difficult look easy."

Their son suddenly perked up, pointed to the other end of the room and said loudly, "Lucius."

Lucius came forward, petted their son in approval and nodded his acknowledgement before leaving.

Hermione stared. "How did he…?"

Draco frowned. "Dark magic is a possibility." He looked at his son. "Now say 'Father'."

.


	44. Dear Granger

**A/N - Gosh, there are so many of these!**

* * *

**Prompt : Lip Biting**

**Title: **Dear Granger

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

Granger,

I feel that it is my duty to tell you that it would be in the interest of the male population of Hogwarts if you would stop biting your lower lip in such a seductive manner. Your behaviour is appalling! McLaggen is making sly remarks, that Weasley twit hasn't been able to stop staring, Blaise is now eyeing you as a possible conquest and Longbottom nearly killed us all. For Merlin's sake, have some tact.

Also, wear looser robes, would you?

From,  
A concerned Slytherin Prefect.

P.S. – Meet me in the broom cupboard after Potions. Without knickers is preferred.


	45. Valid Reasons

**A/N - Written for the dmhg challenge over at Livejournal**

* * *

**Prompt : House Cup/House Cup Rivalry**

**Title: **Valid Reasons

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"Give it here, Malfoy."

"Get your own, Granger."

"Our houses are _tied_. It's our turn and you know it."

Draco sneered. "If you want it, come and get it."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Perhaps you two should learn how to _share_the House Cup?"

Malfoy scoffed. "You think Granger will _share_? I freeze every night because she can't share the bloody blanket, and you want me to give this to _her_?"

The Great Hall went utterly silent.

Hermione's eyes widened, Draco swore, and all Slytherins and Gryffindors eyed them both in horror.

Dumbledore, however, poured himself another cup of tea.

.

**A/N 2 - I usually take part in an advent calender but decided not to this year because I wanted to do something different. How does 24 days of Christmas Dramione Drabbles sound? I'm looking for 24 prompts (words, lyrics, pictures, quotes) to inspire me to write 24 fics (between 500 - 1000 words) and post it daily from Dec 1st - Dec 24th. Feel free to PM me a prompt and a genre (humour, romance, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, crack) and I will gladly dedicate the fic to you as a Christmas gift. :)**

**I'll be collecting prompts from now on until November 25th [my birthday :D]. Once I reach 24 prompts I'll put up a notice to let everyone know. **


	46. What's in a Book?

**A/N - Written for the dmhg challenge over at Livejournal**

* * *

**Prompt : Platform 9 ¾.**

**Title: **What's in a Book?

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"When do you think–?"

"Shh."

"I'm only mentioning it because—"

"Shhhh."

"Are you going to let me say _anything_?"

Hermione looked forward excitedly. "I think he's ready."

Draco huffed in irritation. "He's been ready for the past hour."

"Don't be ridiculous. We've only been here for a few minutes. He'll do it. You'll see."

Rolling his eyes, Draco waited as their son frowned in frustration. At that moment, a family of four came rushing forward and disappeared through a wall.

"Found it!" their son cried out with a grin.

"You're right," Draco said dryly. "'Hogwarts, A History' _does_ do wonders."

.

**A/N 2 - I've gotten some lovely prompts so far. Keep them coming. :)**


	47. Who's to Blame?

**A/N - Written for the dmhg challenge over at Livejournal. Yup. I take part in a lot of these challenges. **

* * *

**Prompt : St. Mungo's**

**Title: **Who's to Blame?

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"It's _your_ fault."

"Shut it, Weasley." Like his opponent, Draco nursed his head.

"_Ronald Weasley_!"

They groaned as the familiar glare of Hermione Granger came into view.

"Care to explain yourself?"

"Go on." Draco mocked. "Explain yourself."

"And _you_," Hermione said, poking Draco's chest. "Care to explain why I was called to St. Mungo's to admit the two of you?"

Weasley pointed towards him. "He made an inappropriate comment about your—"

"In my defence," Draco interrupted with a sly grin, "Firewhisky makes me tell the truth."

Against her will, Hermione's lips quirked.

Weasley's gaze narrowed suspiciously. "Did I miss something?"

.


	48. Memories

**A/N - Written for the dmhg challenge over at Livejournal. **

* * *

**Prompt : Flourish and Blotts**

**Title: **Memories

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

The first time they met after Hogwarts, it was memorable. He insulted her, which was expected, and she hit him with a book, which was not so expected. It was the first time in the history of _Flourish & Blotts_ that wizards were kicked out for violent behaviour.

Now, years later, Draco visits the shop regularly with his four year old daughter, who has a love for reading which could have only come from a mother she never knew.

And when she's busy reading the latest tale, Draco sits silently with a book in his hands and remembers his Hermione.

.


	49. Skating Around

**A/N - Written for the fandomwords100 over at Livejournal. **

* * *

**Prompt : Ice Skating  
**

**Title: **Skating Around

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

Draco Malfoy found it insanely ridiculous how a witch or wizard could balance themselves on two blades and move around frozen ice without magic. Under the new initiative to bring pure-bloods and Muggle-borns together, Draco had no choice but to undergo the torture of learning to skate.

Hermione Granger seemed completely at ease on the frozen lake. While he stumbled and stalled, she gracefully twisted and turned on the lake.

"You're doing it wrong."

He scowled at her. "Leave me alone, Granger."

She held out her hand. "I'll teach you."

It was complete insanity that made him take her hand.

.

**A/N - If there are any more prompts you would like to give me for the 24 days of Dramione Drabbles, don't forget to send it to me. I've already started on the ones given. :)**


	50. Leverage

**A/N - Even more drabbles!  
**

* * *

**Prompt : The Leaky Cauldron  
**

**Title: **Leverage

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"I'm not doing it."

"You promised!"

"You had taken your clothes off when you asked me. I would have promised you anything."

Stepping forward so that the occupants of the Leaky Cauldron could not hear, Hermione whispered, "I think it's only fair that you come with me into the Muggle world. It's only for a short while."

"Muggles are awkward things. They believe in freezing their food."

Her gaze narrowed suspiciously. "Ron?"

"He has my best interest at heart."

"Maybe you and Ron should go on _our_ honeymoon."

"What are you waiting for woman? Let's go to the Muggle world!"

.


	51. The Difference

**A/N - Written for a Halloween challenge.  
**

* * *

**Prompt : The Differemce  
**

**Title: **Blood

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **222

**Warnings:** Dark themes, torture and violence.

.

Draco stared as if mesmerised by the unconscious body in front of him. She had been tortured by his aunt, then beaten and kicked before she was tossed onto the floor and then forgotten for the time being.

He stared at the face of Hermione Granger as he remembered every memory he had of her. The way she walked, the way she talked, the way her hand rose to the air with every question, the way she laughed whenever she was with Potter and Weasley, the proud way she acted, and the slap she had imparted him in third year.

But, what really drew his attention was the cut on her forehead. _The blood…_

Draco stared at the streak of red that coloured her skin. As if possessed, he leaned forward and rubbed his thumb against the blood. He stared at the colour with widened eyes. All pure-blood children were told that the difference between Mudbloods and those deserving of magic wasn't the outside but the inside: Mudbloods had black blood.

He rubbed the red between his fingers, his chest constricting with the sudden knowledge that he had been lied to. Then his eyes fell on Granger. She had screamed and begged for mercy when his aunt had questioned her. Draco felt sick inside.

.

**A/N - Change of plans. I will no longer be doing the 24 days of Dramione 'cause I'm doing a gift give away for those 24 days which is for various fandoms and pairings. Those who have sent me prompts will be given their gifts in December. I still have 7 spots left for the fic give away, so if you want one for Christmas let me know the prompt you would like me to run with. **


	52. Horseplay

**A/N - Written for the dmhgchallenge  
**

* * *

**Prompt : Horseplay  
**

**Title: **Patronus

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

The classroom was animated as various corporeal Patronus' ran and jumped everywhere. Bunnies were playing with swans, monkeys were leaping over turtles and Hermione's otter was being chased by a jack russel terrier.

Her otter ran through a stag's legs, leaped over a snake and crawled over a perched owl before hiding behind the Patronus of a dragon. The dragon extended its wings, rose to its height and roared at the small terrier. When the terrier ran off, her otter touched its nose gently to the dragon's.

Draco Malfoy winked at her. "At least your Patronus has some sense, Granger."

.


	53. The Best Laid Plans

**A/N - Written for the HP Halloween Fest 2012 for stawberry_kait  
**

* * *

**Prompt : Horror/Humour - 200 word limit  
**

**Title: **The Best Laid Plans

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **200

**Warnings:** None.

.

The Manor was eerily quiet as Hermione stepped inside.

"Hello?" she said softly.

"Malfoy?" Feeling quite chilly, Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and squinted at the darkness that coated the Manor. She wondered why the clues she had followed led her here on Halloween, of all days.

A noise to her right made her swerve around. She had an uneasy feeling about this. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

"Malfoy? Are you here?"

Another noise to her left made her turn quickly towards the sound. "This is not funny."

_Thunk… Thunk… Thunk…_

Hermione swirled around, her heartbeat quickening as the sound echoed all around her. Subconsciously, she circled her fingers around her wand.

"Boo!"

Acting on instinct, Hermione turned around and aimed a spell at her attacker, causing him to fall over with an "Oomph".

"Not funny," she said sternly before stepping over Draco and leaving.

Draco winced as he sat up. "Maybe I went too far."

George stepped forward. "A tad bit, yeah." He helped Draco to his feet. "Maybe next time you can try proposing to her _before _trying to scare her."

Draco rubbed his sore bottom. "Where's the fun in that?"

.

.

**Happy Halloween everyone! I also hope anyone who was in the pathway of Hurricane Sandy is doing good. **

**Also, there is one more spot left for the gift giveaway this December. If you want to request a drabble, feel free to PM me.  
**


	54. Hide and Seek

**A/N - Written for the dmhg challenge.  
**

* * *

**Prompt : The Burrow  
**

**Title: **Hide and Seek

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"Where is he?"

Fred cocked his head to the side. "Who?"

"Draco," Hermione hissed.

"That blond git?" asked George. "Never heard of him."

Hermione sighed. "I know you've hidden him somewhere in the Burrow."

"She's onto us, Fred."

"She's smart, ain't she?"

"Not smart enough if she's marrying _him._"

"Tell me," Hermione ordered.

George held out a piece of parchment that Hermione squinted at. "Follow these elaborate set of clues and—"

But, Hermione had already disappeared. A second later… "Found him!"

"Those buggering, arse-witted _clowns_," Malfoy yelled moments later.

Fred frowned. "Knew we should have tossed him down a well."

.

.

**I have finally given in! I have gotten a Tumblr account! You can find the link to it on my profile. Feel free to follow me. I'll probably follow you right back. ^_^**


	55. Nothing More

**A/N - Written for the dmhg challenge.  
**

* * *

**Prompt : The Room of Requirement  
**

**Title: **Nothing More

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

When the school was surrounded and things looked grim, Draco retired to a safe place: the Room of Requirement. Among the many items he hid near the entrance.

Then she entered, her hair tangled with blood.

He mistakenly knocked a table and she raised her wand at the sound, her eyes widening at him.

A moment passed before she reluctantly dropped her arm.

When she turned to leave, Draco grabbed her wrist and held her while a group of Death Eaters passed.

He let go and walked away before she could question it.

It was common courtesy; that was all.

.


	56. The Night of the Beltaine Festival

**Prompt : Beltaine  
**

**Title: **The Night of the Beltaine Festival

**Rating:** M15

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"_That_ did not happen," Hermione said self-consciously.

"Didn't it?" Draco asked innocently, his gaze intense in the firelight. "I must have been thinking about the future then."

A blush coloured her cheeks. "I will not let you—"

"Shove you against a wall?" He leaned forward, his smirk dangerous. "Kiss you the way you were meant to be kissed?" His gaze fell on her lips. "Lift your robes and take you until you scream my name?"

Feeling excitement thrumming through her veins, Hermione stood up quickly before leaving with a final glare. "Never."

Draco smirked. The night was still young.

.


	57. Love Me Forever and Always

**Prompt : Malfoy Manor  
**

**Title: **Love Me Forever and Always

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

Her bare feet are soft on the marble floor of her home that she shares with her children and her children's children.

The Manor is shrouded in darkness, but he stands in the middle of the hall to welcome her, young and strong, a grin on his lips.

They were old once, skin wrinkled and soft, hair white with age. A life well lived until he was taken and she bore the years without him.

He holds out his hand and she takes it with a smile.

And while the living sleep, Hermione dances with her husband, cheek to cheek.

.


	58. Through Blood and Sweat

**Prompt : The Shrieking Shack  
**

**Title: **Through Blood and Sweat

**Rating:** PG13

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

When he comes to, he's naked, his head groggy and his nails stained with blood. He shivers at the cold air within the Shrieking Shack, a groan escaping him while his bones ache under his stretched skin.

"Draco…"

She stands before him with red on her cheek.

"I hurt you." His voice breaks. He curses the iron bindings around his ankles and wrists. "Hermione…"

He ducks his head when she tries to kiss him.

"I told you to leave."

Hermione surrounds him with her arms before placing a kiss on the very bite that cursed him. "Not now, not ever."

.


	59. Do You Hear What I Hear

**A/N - Here's one of the Christmas Gift Giveaway Fics I wrote for 2012. Prompt given by the requested person.  
**

**MERRY CHRISTMAS, fprmr1! :D  
**

* * *

**Prompt : Hot Chocolate, Marshmallows, Mint, Fried Chicken  
**

**Title: **Do You Hear What I Hear

**Rating:** PG13

**Word Count: **1393

**Warnings:** Fluff!.

.

Draco Malfoy tried his hardest not to scowl. He sat amidst an army of redheaded Weasleys, wearing an itchy, grey woolly sweater that was too thick around his arms, and a bizarre looking headband with fake antlers resting snugly amidst his blond hair. He looked ridiculous. He felt absurd. He finally let himself scowl into his fried chicken as he took a particularly violent bite of the meat.

When Hermione had asked him to attend Christmas at the Weasleys, Draco had refused without any hesitation. He was convinced that nothing could get him to attend a whole day of activities with the one family who hated him more than his house-elves once did. Hermione had then begged, pleaded, dropping not-so-subtle hints nearly every waking hour that made him feel, more than ever, that it was imperative that he does not do what she asked of him. His logic was simple: if he were to accept this obviously reluctant invitation they had bestowed on him, there would be no doubt in his mind that he and Weaselbee will have an altercation. Besides, Draco had heard it is bad luck to hex a wizard—even an annoying git of a wizard—during the holidays. Something about vengeful Nargles that Loony Lovegood breathed past him that first Christmas he had attended in Hogwarts. He didn't know what it was, but he wasn't ready to take the chance to find out.

It was not until blackmail came into the equation that Draco realised he might be in some sort of trouble. She had been in his bed, wrapped in his sheets with her hand around his waist when she had breathed her proposal in his ear.

His eyes had widened. "You wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?" she had asked innocently.

When he had simply remained silent, his eyes narrowing in displeasure, she continued with a tired sigh.

"I can't keep doing what we have been doing while keeping you a secret."

"I rather like keeping us a secret," he had said with a mischievous smirk.

"My friends hate you."

"Your friends have bad taste in everything."

She had sighed again. "They mean the world to me. The Weasleys are the only family I have. If you can't get along..." Draco had begun to move away from her when she had said hastily, "All I want is for you to try. That's all. Come for Christmas Day with me and make an effort. That would be better than any gift you could ever give me."

Then, she had kissed him, reminding him of exactly why he had not headed the warnings of his parents and pursued a Muggle-born.

So, here he was, in the Acromantulas' den, having sat through painful pleasantries, overly enthusiastic Christmas festivities and now eating _chicken_. He scowled again as he took another bite.

"You okay there, Malfoy?"

The whole table went uncomfortably silent as Draco looked up until his grey eyes glared at suspicious blue ones. Playing along easily and determined not to let his adversary win, Draco smiled. "I was simply admiring the cooking. The food is delicious."

Ron Weasley raised an eyebrow at him before pushing a harmless looking mug towards him. "If you like the cooking so much, you should try this." His eyes were narrowed with a hidden meaning behind them. "It has an extra… _kick _to it."

It was hot chocolate, a sweetened drink that was introduced to him by Hermione a few months ago. She had made him the drink knowing that it was one of his favourite Muggle products. She even knew that he liked it better with little marshmallows on top.

Draco looked at the drink suspiciously. Something else must be inside it.

Hermione huffed right beside him. "Ron, stop teasing."

Weaselbee's shoulders stiffened in defence. "I'm not teasing. I'm simply offering our guest a beverage." He pushed the mug closer. "Go on, Malfoy. Give it a taste."

Draco eyed the mug warily, a ridiculous Muggle item that had leaping reindeers surrounding it in an effort to stay true to the festive season.

"You don't have to drink that, Draco," Hermione said softly from beside him. She sent a displeased glare towards her overly protective best friend, who simply looked at her as innocently as he could. But there was a battle going on between the youngest male Weasley and himself, and Draco's Malfoy pride refused to let him step down.

Keeping his gaze locked with Weaselbee's, he picked up the mug and took a sip of the hot chocolate. It tasted the way it always did: warm, sweet, with a tiny hint of mint at the end.

Just as he saw Weaselbee's lips curve into a happy smirk, Draco's eyes got blurry.

* * *

Draco blinked rapidly as he tried to get his bearings. He was no longer seated at the table, but on a plush chair next to a fireplace. He was still wearing the awful sweater. The heat was nearly unbearable.

When he looked up, he saw Hermione sitting on one of the arms of the chair, her legs lying lightly over his.

"You're awake," she said happily, before brushing aside the stray hair that had fallen over his brow.

Draco's eyes narrowed at her suspiciously. She had never been quite so affectionate with him before, even though that small action gave him a warm feeling in his gut that he couldn't hate even if he tried.

"What happened?"

She shook her head. "Ron—"

"Did he _poison _me?" he asked, alarmed. He didn't wait for an answer as he tried to stand up. "Why that no good—"

"Draco…" Hermione placed a gentle hand on his chest and pushed him back down.

He blinked up at her. Why wasn't she upset?

"He didn't poison you," she said gently. Shifting, she let herself slip down onto his lap so that she was sitting astride his legs.

Without a thought, Draco let his hand circle her hips and bring her closer. He liked the feel of her so close. "He did something."

Her cheeks were red when she looked at him. "He gave you Veritaserum."

Draco's eyes widened in panic. What had he said? What did the tosser ask? What had they all heard? What was the most pleasurable way to kill the git?

"Hermione," he began softly, his tone deadly, "I think it's time you get off me. I think a discussion is in order."

"Wait, wait." She shifted closer.

Draco stared at her in confusion, wondering why she looked at him shyly. She had never looked this embarrassed, not even during the first time he had ripped the robes right off her.

She looked away when she asked him, her words whisper soft. "Do you really love me?"

Draco's heart thudded to a halt. Then he felt his pulse speed up and the sweater tighten around his neck as he eyed her in disbelief. Had he—? Did he—? _What did he say?_

He watched the way she squirmed on his lap, and he recognised the feeling she was trying to hide instantly: fear.

Curling his fingers around her neck, he forced her to look up at him. "I'm sitting here, wearing a hideous sweater, after having spent a full day playing Quidditch and baking biscuits _for you_." He sighed in defeat as he let his thumb lightly trace her lips. "Saying it would have been redundant."

She smiled shyly. "It would have been redundant if I said it too."

He blinked in surprise before he pulled her to him, his chest expanding in happiness for the first time in a long time. Her mouth moved against his easily, a small sigh escaping her when his tongue pushed through her lips to touch hers.

A sudden burst of noise made them pull away from each other.

"Sorry I'm late, everyone," Potter said breathlessly as he entered the Burrow. "What did I miss?" He started unwrapping the scarf around his neck when his gaze fell on Draco and a sheepish Hermione smiling bashfully from his lap. Immediately, Potter's eyes narrowed.

_Great_, Draco groaned. _Another one._

.


	60. Enemy of My Enemy

**A/N - Here's one of the Christmas Gift Giveaway Fics I wrote for 2012. Prompt given by d_vivace.  
**

* * *

**Prompt : Yule Log  
**

**Title: **Enemy of My Enemy

**Rating:** PG13

**Word Count: **893

**Warnings:** AU. Swearing.

.

Hermione blinked hazily, sensing warmth around her as something heavy and scratchy fell across her body. It took a moment for her to get her bearings. She blinked at the hard, wooden floor that she was lying on, then on the quilt that she was snuggled under, then the pale hand that was tucking her in. Holding her breath, she looked up in dread and met grey eyes.

With a start, she sat up, her head aching instantly. Before she could fumble for her wand, strong hands held onto her shoulders in an effort to hold her still.

"Stop that. You're hurt."

Hermione stopped struggling as her eyes widened. Draco Malfoy barely looked at her, giving her a cursory glance all over before dropping his arms and sitting down on his knees with a tired sigh.

She stared at him, a million questions swimming in her head. The first thing she noticed was that she seemed to be in a cold cabin with a dying fire. She was covered with a blanket while Malfoy looked ruffled, from his usually neat hair to his usually pressed robes. "What—?"

His head suddenly perked up as he placed a finger on his lips in a sign of silence. Hermione complied, unsure why she should follow his instructions. But she couldn't help but notice that she wasn't tied down or injured or dead. She decided that more than wanting to give him the benefit of doubt, she was simply curious. She started moving her hand around in search of her wand.

She watched him as he slowly stood up, his hand finding his wand hidden inside his robes as he carefully made his way to the closest window. The curtains were drawn, but Malfoy moved the material an inch away so he could see outside. A minute passed before she saw his stiff shoulders relax.

"Why am I here?"

He suddenly looked at her as if he had forgotten that she was there in the first place. His eyes then fell on her quilt as he rose an eyebrow at her. "Did you really think I would let you keep this?" With a flourish, he pulled out her wand and held it in his other hand.

Hermione's eyes widened, she had never felt so powerless. "Are you going to kill me?" she asked softly. She had been prepared for this. She knew that surviving the war was always a slim chance.

He studied her for a moment. "I thought about it. But you're too valuable."

He moved slowly towards the fireplace, his eyes narrowed in thought. Hermione used this opportunity to assess her situation. She looked around quickly, trying to determine possible escape routes. Then she mentally checked off each body part, moving her fingers and toes in an effort to examine any damage that might have occurred. When she tried to move her left leg, she winced.

Malfoy looked at her sternly. "I told you, you're hurt."

Hermione glared at him. She had no doubt that she was his prisoner. All she needed was her wand. "What do you want?"

Malfoy stared into the fire, his fingers playing with her wand after he had pocketed his own. "Aren't you going to ask me what happened?"

She wanted so much to find out what had happened after she blacked out, but instead, she raised her chin stubbornly. "Why am I here?" she asked again. The last thing she remembered was getting hit by a stunning curse. But before that she had been fighting alongside her friends. She dearly hoped they were all safe.

Malfoy's features darkened as he kept staring into the flames. "He killed my father," he said softly.

Hermione stared at him in surprise. She didn't say a word for fear that he might not say anything more.

Malfoy turned to look at her. "I've left a sign for the Order. They'll know to find you here. When they come, you will them that I saved your life and that I am willing to do what it takes to save my mother." He stepped closer to her and held out her wand. "Just this once, I'll fight for your side."

Hermione reached for her wand apprehensively, her fingers curling around the wood with a brief moment of happiness. She could stun him now, if she wanted. Instead, she asked him, "That's why you saved me? You needed someone to help you get on the good side of the Order?"

Malfoy didn't say a word. He moved swiftly to the other side of the cabin to pick up a chopped piece of log before tossing it into the fireplace. He cursed when the wood didn't catch fire so easily.

"It would have been better if we had Yule log," Hermione mumbled without thinking. She remembered the stories that she had read, about how one Yule log could keep a whole village warm throughout a whole winter.

Malfoy glared at her. "Merry-fucking-Christmas to you too, Granger."

Scowling, Hermione pulled the quilt tightly around her as she snuggled against the nearest wall. She considered offering Malfoy to share the quilt with her and then thought against it. Let him freeze!

Silently, they sat next to the dying fire in opposite sides of the cabin as they waited for her friends to find them in the heavy snowfall.

.


	61. Six Degrees

**A/N - I know I don't say it enough, but thank you to all those who review these tiny snippets. :D  
**

**Here's one of the Christmas Gift Giveaway Fics I wrote for 2012. Prompt given by the person who requested it.  
**

**Merry Christmas, sunnytheretoo! :D  
**

* * *

**Prompt : Teddy Bear  
**

**Title: **Six Degrees

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **927

**Warnings:** AU.

.

She named him Brady Bear.

He was brown, with big black eyes, a thin, red smile, and in her opinion, worthy to be adored. Her father gave him to her on her third birthday; a gift that she cherished because unlike so many other bears, he had a yellow bow tie with white polka dots. Hermione instantly fell in love with him. He was her best friend.

She read to him at night, she played with him during the day, and for years, she kept him safe and by her side. And when she turned eleven and she received a letter that changed her life, Hermione Granger, now a little girl bordering on being a teenager, logically deduced that she shouldn't leave Brady Bear in a house where she will not be returning to for months. Against her parents' wishes, she snuk him into Hogwarts inside her school trunk.

During the fourth week of her stay, she lost him.

She didn't cry, she didn't even sniffle. She thought it might be for the best. Hermione continued raising her hand for every question and stating clearly the answer before the teachers could finish speaking. She even befriended two wizards, Harry and Ron, learnt to use her intellect for good only to find out that her new friend was a magnet for adventure and detention.

Unconsciously, she chose her friend Harry over rules and such things, because he was far more interesting than her studies.

...

Neville Longbottom was on his way to Herbology when he found a small teddy bear with a yellow and white bow tie. He had been late, so very late, tripping over his feet as he gathered all his things. When he mistakenly dropped his books, he sighed loudly before getting on his hands and knees in the Gryffindor common room to look for his books, his quill and the inkpot that had rolled underneath the large chair near the fireplace.

That's when he saw it, a small teddy bear with a happy smile stuck between the wood of the chair and the wall. With a grunt, Neville pulled it out before gathering all of his things. Then he stuffed the bear along with all his items into his bag before rushing quickly to make it to the class on time. By the time he heaved his excuses to Professor Sprout and told curtly to take his place, Neville noticed with dismay that his bag had been open the whole time and the bear was not to be seen.

...

Zacharias Smith thought it was his lucky day.

Picking up the teddy bear that lay in the Hogwarts corridor, which he thought was in relatively good condition, he made his way to the girl he liked. Cho Chang smiled widely when he gave her his 'unwrapped' present for her birthday and agreed to share her chocolate frog with her.

Yes, Zacharias Smith had a lucky day. He didn't have to spend any money and he got the girl.

...

The day Cho Chang found Zacharias sharing his toast with another Hufflepuff, she decided to get rid of everything that he had ever given her, which was, admittedly, not a large list of items.

So she went around her house common room and distributed all his presents to the Ravenclaws of her year.

When she said, "Here," and dropped the teddy bear in Luna Lovegood's lap, the blonde girl smiled and decided to name him 'Cookie'.

...

Draco snickered as Crabbe put on a ridiculous hat. "Suits you."

"You think so?"

Goyle rummaged through the large bag of items until he pulled out a text book. "Who got this?"

Crabbe held out his hand and took the book quickly. "Lost mine," he mumbled before placing it carefully on his pile.

Draco shoved both his friends aside and looked into the bag himself. He had gotten the idea from a senior Slytherin. While everyone else was in the Great Hall, stuffing themselves with mince pies, he, Crabbe and Goyle had snuck into the big pile of presents that were to be distributed to everyone the next day. They decided to expand their search to other items when most of the Christmas presents looked to be nothing but books and quills.

Draco's eyes widened when he pulled out a teddy bear. "Where did you get _this_?"

"Library," said Goyle, his mouth full of pudding. "Some Ravenclaw had it with her."

Crabbe's eyes widened. "I'll take it."

"No." Draco pulled it out of his reach. "What do you need it for?"

Crabbe's cheeks reddened. "What do _you _need it for?"

Draco frowned for a moment before he finally said, "Target practice." Before they could say anything else, he put the bear on top of his other stolen presents and passed the bag over.

It was not until later, when Draco propped up the bear on his desk, did he wonder exactly why he wanted something so useless. His parents had never given him toys for Christmas. Their gifts had always had a purpose behind them. This bear had no purpose.

Yet, Draco kept this bear right next to his piles of books, at the place where he did his homework, and years later, the place where he practiced spells to fix a broken, magical cupboard.

It was not until he was packing his things for the last time did Draco wrap the teddy bear carefully and take it with him, thinking that one day, his son might like to play with it.

He had no doubt that Hermione would like it too.

.


	62. Choices

**A/N - I spent most of my Sunday watching snippets of Harry Potter Wizards Collection on YouTube. Man, I'm such a dork!  
**

**Here's another one of the Christmas Gift Giveaway Fics I wrote for 2012. Prompt given by the person who requested it.  
**

**Merry Christmas, Lady Fyria! :D  
**

* * *

**Prompt : Hermione is Draco's Present.  
**

**Title: **Choices

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **422

**Warnings:** None.

.

Hermione spent long minutes simply looking at the large door to the entrance of Malfoy Manor. Unlike all other houses, the olden mansion didn't have any decorations to show off the Christmas spirit. There weren't any wreaths or ornaments, nothing to suggest that all around the world people were celebrating a joyous occasion. It hadn't changed in the slightest in the years following the last time when she had last been brought to the Manor as a prisoner, with two friends who were in possession of a sword.

Changing her mind, Hermione turned to leave, before changing her mind again and facing the door.

She had been indecisive the past few days, her mind going through several scenarios that could both be good or bad. She then constructed a comprehensive list of pros and cons, one that did not help in the slightest and only served to confuse her greatly.

She knew she had to make a decision and she had hoped that taking the journey here would give her clarity of mind. Her hopes were dashed when she had stepped onto the last step, stood in front of the door and still had no idea what she wanted.

Bracing herself and not letting her mind stop her once again, she allowed her body to betray her. Once she had raised the large brass knocker and hit the metal against the door, she faulted, immediately thinking about how far it was to the closest Apparition point.

The door swung open immediately, as if the person who had been on the other side had been waiting for the sound of the knock.

Hermione stared at Draco as he stared at her. He didn't look surprised, only apprehensive.

"Yes," she blurted out suddenly. Her heart was pounding maddeningly and her breath was coming out in small white puffs in the cold air. "Yes," she said again, her voice calmer, her hands wringing in nervousness, "I will marry you."

With two steps he was kissing her, his arms surrounding tightly and his lips nipping gently against her own. He pulled back only to bury his head against her neck, a small laugh escaping him. "Good," Draco sighed happily, his arms holding onto her firmly. "Good."

Hermione let out a small laugh herself. She never knew that she could make him so happy. She pulled him closer, burying her face against his collar and blinking away the tears that threatened to spill over.

Her friends would never forgive her. But, perhaps, with time, they will try.

.


	63. The Truth of the Word

**A/N - It's Christmas Eve here! Yay!  
**

**Here's another one of the Christmas Gift Giveaway Fics I wrote for 2012. Prompt given by justamuggle (Misdemeanor1331)  
**

* * *

**Prompt : Fireplace, scarves, big fluffy blankets  
**

**Title: **The Truth of the Word

**Rating:** PG13

**Word Count: **506

**Warnings:** None.

.

While everyone celebrated around her, with noisy Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products, hugs and kisses to commemorate the first year without Voldemort, Hermione couldn't help but notice that there was one person in the Order who was hiding himself away in the kitchen in Grimmauld Place. When she did finally reach him, she saw that he was putting on a scarf and getting ready to head out.

"Where are you going?"

Malfoy paused, his brows furrowing in concentration as if he wasn't sure how much to tell her. "Out," he said finally, his tone curt.

Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow. "Out where?"

His eyes narrowed. "Don't you have some celebration to get too?"

"Yes," she said strongly, "and so do you."

"I'm not going in there."

Hermione nodded. "They are pretty loud, aren't they? Personally, I like the peace and quiet."

Walking past him, she picked up a big fluffy blanket and placed it carefully on the floor in front of the fireplace. She sat down gracefully on it and then looked up at Malfoy expectantly. "Aren't you going to join me?"

Malfoy stared at her for a moment, his shoulders tense. "Shouldn't you be going back to Weasley?"

Hermione blinked up at him innocently. "Which one?"

Just as his jaw tightened and he turned to leave, she said his name.

"Draco."

He paused. It was the first time she had ever called him that.

"I would really like it if you would join me."

His back was stiff as he contemplated her offer silently. Then, with a tired sigh, he accepted the seat she offered, right beside her on the blanket.

"Planning on still leaving?" Hermione asked softly. She touched the edge of his scarf and he pulled away. She winced. "You saw." Her voice was flat, expressionless.

His laugh was dryly. "A bit hard not to."

"_He_ kissed _me_. Did you see me push him away?"

He scowled, the grey in his eyes dancing with the light of the fire. "Yes."

She shook her head. "I don't understand."

He let out a low breath. "Granger… You and I—"

She didn't let him finish. Ducking her head, she captured his lips with hers, coaxing him into a kiss that she knew he desperately wanted. There was a moment when he didn't respond, simply letting her lips move against his, until a low growl escaped his throat and he kissed her back with renewed vigour. His fingers tangled in her hair to keep her close and she easily straddled his hips to bring their bodies closer.

He pulled back only to tell her, "You can't be friends with him anymore."

Hermione laughed. "When will you ever learn that you can't force me to do anything? I will still be friends with Ron." She kissed him quickly to stop his sound of protest. "And I will still love _you_," she whispered breathlessly against his lips.

She didn't let him say a word, kissing him in such way to show him that what she had said was true.

.


	64. Simple Celebrations

**A/N - I hope you all had a lovely Christmas!  
**

**Here's another one of the Christmas Gift Giveaway Fics I wrote for 2012. Prompt given by unseen1969 (UnseenLibrarian)  
**

* * *

**Prompt : _A snowstorm, weasleys' wizard wheezes, furry winter boots, a player piano._  
**

**Title: **Simple Celebrations

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **668

**Warnings:** None.

.

Pausing, Hermione held onto her scarf. She waited. When the feeling had passed, she relaxed, only to hold onto her scarf again. The feeling passed. A few steps into the Manor and she finally sneezed.

Draco jumped away from her, his hands already dusting off the imaginary sickness. "Merlin, Hermione! I thought you said you were well."

"I am," she sniffled. Her cheeks were red and her nose was runny, but besides all that, she was peachy.

When she sneezed again, he jumped further away.

"What's wrong, Draco? Scared of the sniffles?"

He scowled in disgust. "What you have is beyond the simple sniffles."

"It's not my fault," she said pathetically. "If you hadn't—"

"Here we go again. Blame the snowstorm on me!"

"It _was_ your fault." She sneezed again, a groan escaping her as her body spasmed. "If you hadn't been so adamant to visit my parents' cabin at this time of year—"

"Something you could have warned me about."

She sneezed again. "I _did_ warn you. I said, 'Draco, it is not a good idea. We could get caught in a snowstorm.'" She looked at him pointedly.

Draco blinked at her. "Why don't you tell me these things?"

Rolling her eyes and groaning at how awful she felt, she made her way to the large fireplace. "You never listen."

"I listen," he said in defence.

"Not when I'm speaking." She sat in the plush chair beside the fireplace and raised her wand to start a fire. When the flames roared to life, she sighed happily and leaned back. She heard him pottering about behind her.

"Do you know why you're sick? Those boots of yours!"

"Don't insult my furry winter boots. They were a gift."

"From a Weasley."

"George said that they would be perfect for hiking."

She heard him snort. "Yes, perfect. Is that why you fell down face-first into snow and nearly twisted your ankle just because the fur turned into feathers?"

"It's a new Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes invention. He wanted me to try it."

"I'll be sure to thank him with my own Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes purchase."

"Be nice, Draco," she said tiredly.

"Yes, my dear. I'll stop just short of killing him."

She smiled at his empty threats as she let the tiredness engulf her, only to blink awake when she heard the unmistakable music of the player piano she had purchased the first year they had been married.

Draco was seated beside her on a transfigured chair with a bowl of soup on his lap. "Drink up. I'm not making you soup again."

She laughed weakly as he fed her the first spoonful. She blanched at the taste. "What is that?"

"Something edible. You know I can't cook." He lifted another spoonful and she accepted the soup with apprehension. It was nice and warm. The taste could be ignored.

He fed her another spoonful and grinned at the way her face scrunched up. "Happy Anniversary, Mrs Malfoy."

She laughed, recognising that this was his way of getting back at her for making him carry her all the way down after the hike, even though a simple spell would have helped immensely. "Happy Anniversary, Mr Malfoy."

Tomorrow she will get back at him and continue the tradition of small pranks that has coloured their lives ever since they had been officially together. Thinking that it was better to start now, she sneezed into the bowl of soup, enjoying the way his lips twisted in disgust.

"Your next bowl is going to be worse," he promised, as he made his way to the kitchen to make her another bowl of soup.

"Yes, dear," she said happily with a small laugh.

What a way to spend an anniversary, she thought with amusement, as she listened to the calming sounds of the music that filled the Manor and the familiar sounds of her husband swearing as he tried to cook.

He would get back at her tomorrow. She was looking forward to it.

.


	65. The Malfoy Way

**A/N - Written for dmhg challenge over at LJ.  
**

* * *

**Prompt : _Yule_  
**

**Title: **The Malfoy Way

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"This is underhanded, even for you."

"Raise your right hand, Hermione."

Rolling her eyes, she complied.

"Do you, Hermione Malfoy, swear that you will not go prancing with Potter—"

"_Work_with Harry."

"Same difference. Do you swear not to do any activity related to your job during Yule time?"

She sputtered. "That's twelve days!"

His smirk was evil. "I know."

"Draco!"

"Swear it!"

Glaring at him, she so swore. "Now will you tell me why this was so important to you?"

"My parents will be visiting."

"Why you—"

Of course, _that_ was when her husband kissed her. The sneaky git!

.


	66. Reading Lessons

**A/N - Written for dmhg Last Drabble Writer Standing comp over at LJ. And I won the thing! Whoohoo!  
**

* * *

**Prompt : _The Ministry of Magic_  
**

**Title: **Reading Lessons

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"What's a P-a-tro-nus?"

With a flick of his wand, Draco's Patronus leapt around his daughter, making her giggle with pleasure.

Ginny shook her head in disbelief. "Did you ever think?"

Hermione smiled in amusement. "Not in a million years."

"What's a M-m-mi-ni-s-try of Ma-a-gi-c?"

"That," Draco said with serious wisdom, "is where you were conceived."

Before Ginny's slacked jaw could form speech and her daughter ask what 'conceived' meant, Hermione twisted her husband's ear and earned a satisfying, "Ow!"

"Daddy was being naughty," Hermione said apologetically.

Draco smirked slyly. "You were naughty first."

Her daughter shook her head disapprovingly. "Mummy…"

.


	67. A New Taste

**A/N - I've been missing from this site for quite a while and I ended up not uploading the stories I wrote for the Christmas Gift Giveaway (not all, at least). Thank you to the Guest who reviewed each and every chapter (I know that's quite a feat), for reminding me. This was written for ****idonttrustquiet****.**  


* * *

**Prompt : _Baby, It's Cold Outside_  
**

**Title: **A New Taste

**Rating:** M15

**Word Count: **1035

**Warnings:** Rating upped for language and imagery. ;P

.

It was frustrating! It was maddening! It was bloody _infuriating!_

"Tsk, tsk, Granger. What would Potter think about your potty mouth?"

Hermione let out a low breath before she turned to face the last person she had ever wanted to be stuck in a bedroom with.

"Shut it, Malfoy." She sneered before she asked with fake sweetness, "Why don't you make yourself useful and help me get out of here?"

Turning around she wrapped her small hands around the ornate handle and pulled at the door with all her might. However, just like the last few times she had tried, the door didn't even groan in compliance. Letting out a whine of annoyance, she let go of the offending barrier and raised both her palms to knock against the door.

"Can someone hear me? Hello? I'm trapped in here with a maniac! Hello?" Hermione let out a low breath. "Why did they have to confiscate our wands? We all promised that we won't attack each other."

A soft chuckle made her eyes narrow dangerously before she turned to face him again. When her glance fell on her companion, her eyes widened.

"What are you doing?"

Draco gave her an amused look as he shrugged out of his outer dress robes. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you're undressing," Hermione said sternly.

"Close." Draco tossed his robes onto the loveseat in the corner and opened the top button of his collar. "I'm getting comfortable. If we are to be here a while," he said as he picked up a bottle of goblin-made wine that had been placed on the dresser, "we might as well enjoy it as long as it lasts."

"I'm not going to enjoy anything with _you_," Hermione said with a strong glare. She looked at him suspiciously. "Why aren't you more upset about this?"

Draco gave her a flippant look before he gracefully sat down on the large canopy bed and gestured for her to join him.

"Granger, we are currently trapped in a room that has been clearly charmed to be a bedroom. This is obviously a prank by our co-workers in an effort to have some amusement at this boring Christmas party. All because you had to admit to the whole world that you fancied me."

She gasped at the insult. "I did _not_ say that I fancied you. The interview was written by Rita Skeeter. Even _you_ should know never to believe a word she writes."

His lips split into an amused smile. "And yet, that awful Skeeter woman never creates smoke unless there's a fire." With a practiced _pop_ he opened the bottle of wine.

"Now," Draco said sweetly as he poured two glasses of wine and held one towards her, "how about you loosen up a bit first?"

* * *

Hermione giggled before she realised what she was doing and forced herself to stop. After two glasses of wine and a teasing insult, Hermione had unwittingly decided that sitting on a bed with Draco Malfoy couldn't possibly be too bad an idea.

Draco smirked. "You hate letting go, don't you?"

"I don't know what you mean," Hermione said with a slight tilt of her head. She examined the half empty bottle of wine in an effort to ignore the knowing gaze from a pair of smoky grey eyes.

Draco leant forward, his eyes sparkling. "I have a theory, you know."

"Oh?" Hermione eyed him, mildly amused herself.

"The ones who are uptight are the ones who really go crazy when they let themselves go."

"You think I'm uptight?"

"You alphabetised the whole filing system."

She looked at him pointedly. "It's more efficient."

His smirk fell instantly. "What would it take, Granger, to get you to bend over a table and get fucked until your legs shake?"

Hermione's eyes widened, her lips parted with forgotten words that had been on the tip of her tongue.

Draco leant even closer, his eyes falling onto her lips. "Would you writhe uncontrollably when you're licked between your thighs? Would you cry out?"

Hermione was so surprised that she stayed still. The only thing that made her move was when Draco Malfoy practically lunge at her until his lips landed on hers. Her eyes widening further, Hermione pushed him away and jumped off the bed. The wine had made her reflexes slower than what she knew them to be.

"You—" She was shaking as she rubbed her hand over her lips in an effort to take away the taste. But it didn't work. She could still feel him. She could still _taste_ him. It seemed worse than it was because she had liked it. "Stay away from me," she said strongly.

Draco was just getting off his side of the bed when the doors that had been locked swung open. Blaise stood with a straight back like a saviour coming back from war. "I was looking for you two everywhere!"

Hermione glared at them both before she marched outside the charmed room. Draco had no doubt that her intention was to grab her wand and leave the party immediately.

Blaise turned towards Draco and cocked his eyebrow in question.

Draco smirked as he held out his hand. "I told you I could do it."

Cursing, Blaise searched through his robes and handed over ten Galleons to his best friend. "I had hoped that she would have more sense than to kiss you."

"The trick to kissing Hermione Granger," said Draco as he pocketed the Galleons, "is to surprise her first."

Blaise shook his head as he turned to leave. "Locking the doors helped too."

"Of course," Draco said flippantly he shrugged on his dress robes once again. He pocketed his real wand that he hadn't handed over when he had first entered the Ministry.

As Blaise left, Draco couldn't help but rub his thumb gingerly across his lower lip thoughtfully. He had always had a myriad of sensations when kissing witches, but kissing this specific witch had been warm and exciting, leaving him craving for more.

Naturally, he would have to make another bet so as to give himself the excuse to feel more of the elusive Hermione Granger.

.


	68. Good Intentions

**A/N - Written for dmhgchallenge over at LJ.  
**

* * *

**Prompt : _Red_  
**

**Title: **Good Intentions

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"No. Draco. Please don't die!"

Tears fell down her cheeks as her hands pressed into the red of his chest. He had been fine a moment ago. Now, he was lying unconscious on the floor of the Ministry, covered in blood.

It was a surprise when Draco suddenly looked up at her and winked. "Get it?" He smirked proudly. "The Valentine's Day Massacre?"

"What?" Hermione blinked. "_What?_ Why you no-good, slimy, lying _git_-" 

"Poor sod." Seamus shook his head as he watched Hermione beat Draco repeatedly with a roll of parchment. "He only wanted to show her that he listened."

.


	69. A Thoughtful Egg-secution

**A/N - Written for dmhgchallenge over at LJ.  
**

* * *

**Prompt : _Easter Eggs_  
**

**Title: **A Thoughtful Edd-secution

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"Then the eggs are painted."

He stared at her.

"That's what makes them Easter eggs."

He eyed her warily. "So, Muggles believe that painting an egg is the sign of spring?" he asked cautiously.

"Exactly."

"And anything egg-shaped will do?"

Hermione paused. "I suppose."

He looked away thoughtfully. "Huh."

Later, when she found Draco leaning over a sleeping Ron, holding a wand sprouting paint onto her friend's face, Hermione couldn't help but screech for him to stop.

"What?" Draco asked innocently as he finished his masterpiece with a dot on the forehead. "I thought this would make spring come early."

.


	70. Candy Doesn't Lie

**A/N - Thank you again for such lovely reviews. They really make my day. :D  
**

**Written for dmhgchallenge over at LJ for April.  
**

* * *

**Prompt : _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_.  
**

**Title: **Candy Doesn't Lie

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was utter madness because of the sale. Draco took a bite out of the closest chocolate, not intending to pay for such a farce.

Crabbe squinted at the wrapper he discarded. "This makes you change colour if you like someone."

Draco snorted. He doubted it.

At that moment someone bumped into him. He glared at Granger just as she glared back at him.

"Hasn't your mother ever taught you to apologise?" she asked testily.

"Not to Mudbloods," he sneered.

_How I hate her,_ he thought as he watched her leave.

Crabbe and Goyle blinked at him.

"What?"

.


	71. If Given The Chance

**A/N - Been ages since I last updated, I know. Thank you for the encouraging reviews. :D**

**Written for the Otter & Ferret fest 2013 as a pinch hit for Strawberry Kait.  
**

* * *

**Prompt : **_"I would give anything to go back and marry you. If only to drink butterbeer together on our honeymoon. But I have to let you go. And I badly don't want to."**  
**_

**Title: **If Given The Chance

**Rating:** K

**Word Count: **1271

**Warnings:** None.

.

There is nothing worse than idiots, Draco decided, as he kicked a lonely rock like a petulant child. He had spent his day listening to morons with absolutely no common sense.

_We should do this, Mr Malfoy. We should do that._

"We should kick your buggering arses so you twits can speak _sense,"_ he mumbled darkly to himself.

A small laugh drew his attention and he felt his shoulders relax instantly.

"You're late," he said without turning around. His tone was curt, but not without a teasing lilt to it.

"Come now, Draco. Have you known me _ever_ to be late?" she said with a light, teasing tone.

He had fully intended to be difficult, but hearing her voice, knowing that she was there, his baser instincts won out as he turned to face her. He couldn't hide the scowl that played on his lips, though.

His wife made a happy tsking sound. "You really should smile more."

His scowl deepened, and her laugh was short and sweet.

He stood under an impressive tree, one that has been in the Malfoy family for centuries. Its branches were strong, the roots deep, and as usual, his wife sat gracefully on a thick branch as she looked down at him with amusement colouring her brown eyes. Not for the first time, Draco thought of her as a wooden nymph. There was a carefree quality to her, one that made him smile.

"Who was it this time?" she asked, teasing him.

Draco felt the smile he sported immediately morph into a bitter frown. "Melson," he said, spitting out the name with distaste. "How can someone be so socially acceptable and yet not have a proper brain to lean on?"

Her brows scrunched up in thought. "Andle Melson?" she asked.

Draco nodded.

"Wasn't he Fudge's friend?" she asked thoughtfully. "I remember him attending some of our events with his wife."

Draco let out a tired sigh. "That's the one. He came highly recommended by Fudge himself. I should have known the twit was useless."

She looked at him gently, her expression one of understanding. "What happened?"

"He suggested we pull out the funding for the Muggle businesses. I suspected you might have something to say about that."

She shifted on the branch so she could look at him better, her expression curious. "What did he have in mind, exactly?"

Draco scowled as he looked away from her. "I didn't listen, did I? I kicked him out of the office the moment he opened his useless mouth."

A sound of exasperation passed from her lips, causing Draco to look up at her in surprise.

"You disagree?"

"Of course I disagree. Businesses are just that, businesses. You can't keep funding the same things. Times change and Malfoy Enterprises must keep up with those changes."

"We can do what we bloody well want."

"Even if it means losing opportunities?"

He snorted. "No one would dare pass on us."

"What about losing your business? Or even the poor employees who would be out of a job?"

He scoffed. "First of all, employees can be easily replaced, and second," he said quickly, determined to interrupt her blossoming argument, "that would never happen."

"Why not?" she asked innocently.

"Because my beautiful wife will be coming back to take over the reigns she left behind."

The corners of her smile dipped, her eyes saddening by the mere thought. "You know I can't do that."

"Why not?" he asked stubbornly. "I hate to admit it but they all prefer having you over me."

"I'm nicer," she said teasingly.

"You're a bloody briber, that's why," he said with a smirk. "You promise them raises and vacations. You ask them about their mothers and fathers and babies. You even know the names of the bloody doormen!"

"Dexter, Alfred and Rolf," she recited proudly.

He looked at her pointedly. "You can come back. I can fix it. No doubt everyone would agree with me. Especially Potter and Weasel."

She leant her head against the large bark of the tree, her smile becoming sadder than before. "I miss them."

"You would, even though no one else likes them half as much," Draco said quickly, hoping to bring the subject back to lighter matters. "Potter has been more broody lately. He snaps at people for no reason and nearly punched me in the face."

"He did?" The question seemed to perk her up.

"Twice," Draco said with a scowl. "He seems to think it's my fault."

Her eyes softened. "He knows that's not true. There was nothing any of you could have done. What about Ron?"

Draco snorted, looking away. "Depressed," he said softly. "Won't talk, won't eat, apparently…" He kept his gaze down, focusing on the base of the tree. It took him a while to notice her calling to him.

"Draco?"

He looked up reluctantly, the laughter having gone out of his eyes.

Her voice was soft and coaxing. "You know that there was nothing you could have done, right?"

He nodded for the benefit of his wife, his hand rising to run pale fingers against the bark of the tree he stood under. He didn't know if he believed her. He still blamed himself, if only partly.

"Draco?" she said again, her voice softer that before.

When he finally looked at her, his grey eyes held the sadness that he had been hiding for the benefit of his wife. "You can come back."

"No." She shook her head, her eyes kind. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"You know why."

It was the same argument they had had every single day for a while now. He couldn't help but think that they were both too stubborn to move past the stalemate.

"Explain it to me."

She sighed, the sound soft and full of frustration. It reminded him of the countless times she had used that same sound to get him to do things that he never wanted to do in the first place. How he missed that sound. "There's a time for everything to begin and end. I have completed my time."

He looked at her stubbornly. "No, you haven't."

"Yes, I have."

He knew what she was asking of him. He knew he was selfish, but the thought of the alternative alone, seemed harder than what they currently had.

"You have to let me go," she said softly.

He shook his head instinctively. "No."

"Draco…"

"No!" he said forcefully. "I'm…" He paused, letting a low breath escape him. "I'm not ready yet."

Her smile was sad, yet understanding. "Then I shall wait until you _are_ ready."

"That might never happen."

"I think it might."

He couldn't help but let himself smirk at the familiar characteristic that was still present. "Always the optimist."

"Always the cynic," she countered with a wide grin. "Now," she said quickly, no doubt trying her hardest to change the subject to something less dreary, "tell me, who agreed with Melson's proposed changes?"

Draco rolled his eyes as he regaled her with the horrid tale. His wife laughed when she was supposed to, and chastised him for his behaviour when it was appropriate. By the time the sun had set and she had left, he had a soft smile fixed on his lips.

Thinking impatiently of his next planned visit, Draco knelt down at the base of the tree and conjured a bouquet of his wife's favourite flowers to be placed on her grave that was marked by a simple tombstone before he pulled his robes around him tighter and started for Malfoy Manor.

_Here lies,_

_Hermione Jean Malfoy._

_Hero, Wife and Friend._

.


	72. Disastrous Dinner

**A/N - A gift written for Dormiensa a while back for the Christmas Gift Giveaway 2012.  
**

* * *

**Prompt : Forced partnership, second chances, jellyfish, unusual fruits, disastrous date. (secondary pair - George/Luna)  
**

**Title: **Disastrous Dinner

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **1317

**Warnings:** None.

.

Draco Malfoy was having a brilliant time. Such a brilliant time, in fact, that he was currently contemplating the difference between burning his face off and shooting his own arm with a disarming spell that would leave it numb and lifeless. What would hurt more? What would cause so much pain that would get him out of this latest predicament he had unwisely put himself in?

"You don't need to scowl," a voice sniffed haughtily from across from him.

Draco rolled his eyes as dramatically as he could behind his large menu before snapping it shut. "How do you know I was scowling?" he asked as politely as possible, his grin bordering on a sneer, but not without a pleasant thought of _someone's_ imminent death. Such an idea was an important thing to concentrate on. It forced his lips to quirk upwards and it stopped him from reaching for his wand and doing something disastrous.

Hermione Granger frowned as she perused her own menu, she didn't spare him a glance as she spoke. "I could hear it."

Draco very nearly did scowl at that moment, but then a thought of boils pimpling her face made him smile instead. "How could you _hear_ a scowl?"

She looked up to give him a flippant look. "I have my ways."

She was _insufferable_! She was even more infuriating when her glance fell on his whitening knuckles as he gripped the menu too tight, only to quirk a mocking eyebrow at him. How he hated her!

Granger, on the other hand, seemed to quite enjoy his discomfort. She watched him evenly, an expression full of guarded curiosity just as the large clock in the restaurant struck a pretty melody to inform their inhabitants that it was nine o' clock at night.

With a glare aimed right at her, Draco tossed the menu onto the table just as Granger shut her own and placed it carefully in front of her. They had done it! They had been forced to endure an hour in each other's company and they had completed the exercise without even successfully ordering food.

He made a move to stand up when she looked at him pointedly. "You can't leave."

"I can do whatever I bloody well please."

"They haven't come yet."

"Then it's their fault, isn't it?" He stood up swiftly, intending to leave before their guests could arrive and force him to ensure another second with his rival. His hopes were shattered when the unmistakable sound of laughter rang through the wizarding restaurant. Draco shuddered. _Weasleys!_

"Sit down, Draco. You're not going anywhere."

Draco barely felt a hand on his shoulder before he was suddenly pushed into his chair carelessly. He inwardly groaned. He should have left earlier.

Granger, however, had a big grin splitting her lips as she first hugged Lovegood before getting carried in a whirlwind of a hug by George Weasley. He put a sloppy kiss against Granger's cheek after putting her down. What made Draco shudder again was how he bent down and put another sloppy kiss against Draco's cheek as well.

_Weasleys!_

"Do you mind?" Draco hissed as he pulled out a monogrammed handkerchief and proceeded to wipe the saliva off his face. For the millionth time that day he wondered exactly why he had ever become business partners with George Weasley, then unlikely friends before finally accepted to be his best man at the wedding. George had explained that he couldn't pick one brother over another, so Draco was given the unwanted assignment of standing by his side. What made the prospect seem even more unbearable was that he was supposed to walk down the aisle with _her_, his nemesis, the witch who tried to take down his business until partnering with George had saved his business from her righteous beliefs against enslaving house-elves. It was George who saved Draco's family's name and legacy, and Draco thanked him for it by handing the reigns of the company to the older Weasley while he concentrated on getting a post at the Ministry of Magic.

George slapped his back as he drew up two chairs as he and his fiancé took their respective seats beside him and Granger. "Not at all," he said cheerfully.

Luna blinked at him. "Oh, hello Draco."

Draco took great pleasure in how Granger's eyes widened at such familiarity. "Hello, Luna," he said politely, throwing a quick look towards Granger that made her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

"Sorry we're late," Luna continued, her tone breathless as she dreamily stared at the candlelight above them. "We were searching for Undris. It's a fruit, you see. It's supposed to give you luck on the day you need it the most." She dropped her gaze from the firelight and looked straight at him. "I hope to give you one for next Thursday."

Draco would never admit it out loud, but he was touched by the sentiment.

Granger looked between them curiously. "What's happening on Thursday?"

"Nothing," Draco said quickly as George opened his mouth to reply. Draco hoped to stop George from revealing anything extra. He was not so lucky.

"Lucius Malfoy will be having a hearing on Thursday," George said easily, ignoring the glare Draco sent towards him. "Which is why we asked you to come, Hermione. Draco needs your help."

The entire table went silent, except for Luna who called the waiter and asked if any animals were harmed when preparing the meal for the night.

After the waiter, flustered and scared, practically ran from them, Draco blinked rapidly in surprise. "What?"

Granger seemed just as surprised, although she tried to hide it well as she looked at George curiously.

"You're going to help each other," George said with flare, as if the very idea made him a genius. He turned towards Granger. "_You_ are friends with the committee that will be deciding Lucius' fate." He then turned towards Draco. "And _you_ are the person holding up her proposal to legalise the employment for house-elves under a union."

Luna coughed delicately. "I think you should help each other." Her glazed eyes fell first on Granger before falling on Draco innocently. "Don't you think?"

Draco met Granger's eyes reluctantly. She was busy biting her lower lip, her expression one of complete turmoil. Such backdoor dealings was not uncommon within the Ministry, yet it was something he never thought Granger would ever partake in. But the fact that she was considering it, must mean that she was desperate; the fact that she was considering making a deal with _him_, must mean that she was _very_ desperate. He understood how she might be feeling. As much as he hated her, he loved his father more.

"What do you say, Granger?"

She looked between George and Luna before her gaze finally fell on him. "Fine," she said explosively, her tone betraying displeasure. "I'll speak to them on your behalf."

Draco nodded. "I'll change my vote on Monday in favour of your proposal."

Granger smiled gently, an expression Draco had never seen aimed at him before. "Thank you, Malfoy. I appreciate that."

He looked away quickly as he grabbed his menu. Draco was determined not to look at Granger again unless he couldn't help it.

A sly laugh onto his left drew his attention. "What?" Draco snapped.

"Nothing," George chortled. "I'm just surprised that what Luna said came true."

Luna looked down at her own menu with her head cocked to the side. "It's obvious, I think. They have been attracted to each other for so long. They were bound to do something nice and get along."

And while Granger choked on air and George slapped her back with a hearty laugh, Draco stared at his blonde dinner companion, completely horrified, as she calmly called back the waiter and asked him to please serve them pumpkin bread without the raisins, as they attract jellyfish.

.


	73. Genuinely Gorgeous

**A/N - A gift written for sierralim91 a while back for the Christmas Gift Giveaway 2012. I'm sorry for getting late to post it here.  
**

* * *

**Prompt : Genuinely Gorgeous Granger  
**

**Title: **Genuinely Gorgeous

**Rating:** M15

**Word Count: **619

**Warnings:** None.

.

It has been a while since he had stayed over. The first time they had met with a frenzy of kisses, it was decided that that would be the first and last time. Such an attraction between them could only end the way they thought it would end, with disagreements and fighting and maybe an all out war. He was not good for her, and Merlin knew that she wasn't suited for him.

But, she was always there, no matter where he looked, and before long it was not just broom cupboards and tiny closets that held their secret trysts, but she was in his bed as he was in hers. Had he known this was where his life would lead, Draco Malfoy had no doubt in his mind that he would have moved on as quickly as he could.

He never thought the day would come when he hoped that she wouldn't move on from him.

As the sun rose outside her modest house, Draco's eyes dropped to study her form. This is the moment when he was supposed to get dressed and Apparate back to the Manor. They had done this enough times so that it was an action that didn't warrant any thought. But, her back was turned to him, and for the first time he could study her.

He studied her bare back with the attractive dip that ran down the middle, the way her soft skin glowed under the sun as the blanket bundled over her arse in an ineffective way of keeping her form modest. He felt the indescribable need to touch her, to place his hands on her skin and study her body before letting his lips and teeth nip a trail that only he was allowed to create.

For all the times that they had tangled their limbs together in ecstasy, never had he taken the time to truly worship her body. Draco thought of this as he moved so that he was lying beside her, his own hips pressing into hers as he placed soft, languid kisses across her shoulder and neck. Her curls were as wild as ever, spanning over the pillows like a tangled mane. He buried his face in her hair, his hand going over her waist to rub gentle circles over her soft skin.

She woke up with a tiny moan escaping her, her body leaning back towards him as her hand rose to tangle her fingers in his hair and keep him close. A moment later, she stiffened. He was not supposed to be here, after all. When the morning came they treated the night before as nothing more than a dream. It was always ignored and never forgotten.

Draco continued lapping over her skin gently, his teeth nipping right behind her ear as his warm breath made her pull him even closer.

"I was thinking…"

Hermione turned to face him, her eyes wide and wary, her lips parted in surprise. "What?" she asked breathlessly.

Draco pulled back to look at her, _really_ look at her. Without thought, he raised a hand to her cheek, watching the way the light hit her eyes, giving the look of flecks of gold in her irises.

_You're beautiful_, he wanted to say, _ravishing and gorgeous_.

Instead he kissed her, deep and meaningfully, enjoying the way she arched into him as their tongues fought for dominance. "Let's spend the day in bed," he said, his words muffled as he rolled on top of her. She agreed, pulling him achingly closer while he buried his fingers in her hair.

Maybe he will tell her someday, he decided; once he knew what they were doing, what this thing between them was.

.


	74. A Hand in Friendship

**A/N - A gift written for bunney a while back for the Christmas Gift Giveaway 2012. This is the last of it!  
**

* * *

**Prompt : Hermione has always been there when friends are in crisis, but the week before Christmas, Hermione is the one in crisis with no one there except Draco to show her a Christmas miracle.  
**

**Title: **A Hand in Friendship

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **1759

**Warnings:** AU 'cause I wanted there to be snow. :D - Thank you, Anon, for pointing out the mistake I had made.

.

It was trip she didn't tell her friends about, feeling the need to go through it alone. Maybe it was a right of passage, or maybe she was afraid to let them see her cry. She had put up a strong front whenever she had spoken about her parents, explaining to them that what she had done was necessity at the time. How was she to know that she would survive the war? She had to protect her parents, and the best way she could think of was to wipe her existence from their minds.

What she failed to tell Harry and Ron was that the charm she used was irreversible. They would never remember her. She would have to live with the choice she had made for the rest of her life.

Hermione stared at the house where her parents lived, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. She had told herself that all she wanted to do was have a quick glimpse, let herself know that her parents were alive and well for her own peace of mind.

She had already planned as to how she would do this.

After a comprehensive list containing the pros, cons and possible disasters that might occur, she finally decided that she needed to ring the doorbell and announce herself as their newest neighbour. She intended to have tea with them and find out about their lives. When their backs are turned, she would then erase their memories again, making them forget her new identity so they could go about happily with their lives never wondering who she was.

But, for this plan to work, she first had to _walk_ towards their house, an action that her legs still refused to perform.

It was a while later when Hermione realised that she might be looking at an empty house for far too long to be anything less than suspicious that a familiar sound reached her. She heard the voices of her Mum and Dad as her father told a joke he had told her so many times that she had asked him to _never_ repeat it for her sanity's sake.

Just as in her memories, her Mum said, "Yes, dear," in the same tone Hermione has grown up with, the one that was used to appease her father.

Hermione didn't turn around, fearing that the tears that fell down her cheeks would cause them to panic. They were so kind-hearted. They would stop what they were doing and take care of her if they could, a mere stranger.

The tears threatened to spill even more, so Hermione turned in a way to keep her back to the Wilkins, so they would pass her and not be any the wiser. When they were sufficiently far away, Hermione looked over her shoulder to watch them.

They were laughing about their own joke, causing Hermione to smile regardless of the tears that flowed freely.

"Maybe tomorrow you could get your own bread," her mother said sternly, earning a wince from her husband.

Hermione's father frowned. "I knew I should have married Linda when I had the choice." She slapped his arm, making him chuckle.

_At least they're happy_, Hermione thought, before she wiped her cheeks as best as she could. At least she knew that they visited the market every morning. She might not know much about their new lives, but she could learn.

As Hermione prepared to Apparate away, she didn't see a familiar face watching her from a safe distance away.

* * *

The cold winds blew around her as Hermione tightened the jacket she wore around herself. If she had been anywhere else—magical London, perhaps—she wouldn't have thought twice about pulling out her wand and placing a warming charm on herself. She had been in such a hurry, hiding the Portkey, which was an old, bent spoon, inside her bag before stepping quickly through the hidden alley until she stood at an open market place. Even though it was winter, there were still many people roaming around purchasing grocery items from the long row of vendors, some of them chatting amicably like they were next door neighbours. Maybe they were. Hermione had never stayed so long as to speak with them personally.

As predicted, a woman bumped into her, a slew of genuine apologies passing her lips.

"I'm so sorry, dear. I hope I didn't hurt you."

Hermione stepped back and grinned wide, her cheeks reddening from the cold. She fisted her hands and placed them in her pockets with the hope that she wouldn't lose control and give the woman she spoke to a flying hug. "You didn't," Hermione said calmly. "I shouldn't have stood so close."

The woman smiled politely, her eyes crinkling with confusion as she looked at Hermione carefully. "Have we met before?"

Hermione shook her head. "Don't think so."

"You're new here?"

Hermione shrugged. "Sort of. I'm visiting."

The woman smiled widely. "Your parents?" She waited for Hermione's nod before asking in a very friendly manner, "Do they live around here? Oh, they must be. We must be knowing them, our neighbours." She held out her hand. "Monica Wilkins."

Hermione accepted her hand gracefully and shook it. "Ginny Weasley."

At that moment her husband appeared, a frown marring his features. "I can't decide whether to get the specialty bread." His glance fell on Hermione, a grin forming on his lips. "Oh, hello. Have we met before?"

"This is Ginny Weasley, dear," Monica said introducing them. "This is my husband Wendell."

Hermione shook his hand, exchanging pleasantries the way she had been taught.

Wendell's eyes widened, his expression becoming one of complete glee. "A Brit! Good to bump into you."

Monica turned towards her. "Would you like to come with us for a spot of tea? You look positively frozen."

Hermione hesitated.

Her father shook his head. "Don't bother her, Monica. Look at her! A pretty young thing. The last thing she wants is to spend her time talking to old ninnies like you and me."

Before Hermione's Mum could give her husband a thorough scolding, Hermione said quickly, "I'd love that, actually."

"Well, then. The pleasure is all ours," her father said with a grin. "Come along, then."

Hermione stood rooted to the spot, her eyes studying someone else's who stood across the street. She had heard the rumours, of course. Draco Malfoy, suspected Death Eater, who fled London because of the downfall his family had suffered. Out of all people Hermione would have expected to see on the other side of the world, he wasn't one of them. She especially didn't expect to see him on a Muggle street, wearing Muggle clothes and doing something so mundane as to purchase the morning paper.

"What are you looking at, dear?" her Mum asked concerned as her eyes followed Hermione's gaze.

Her father looked too, doing something so surprising that Hermione thought that she might choke on air. He waved at Malfoy, who dropped his gaze from Hermione and waved back.

"You know him?" Hermione asked, her tone panicked. She watched Malfoy rush off hurriedly, ducking his head as he moved.

Had the Death Eaters found her parents? Were they in danger? Was the movement alive again after Voldemort's death? Was Malfoy an active Death Eater again?

"Who? _Him?_" Her father shrugged. "Good lad. Brit, too. Moved onto this street a few months ago."

Hermione could only stare in continued panic as her mother said softly, "A good boy with sad eyes…"

"Don't you start now…"

"It's true. "

"The boy is helpful. Let's leave it at that. Now, then, coming in for tea, Ginny?"

Still in shock, Hermione joined her parents for tea. She learned everything she could possibly learn within three hours, including the lives she had implanted in them. Before she left, she performed a few protective charms around their house secretly, just in case.

* * *

It was so completely silly, but Hermione was currently sitting on the back steps of her parents' new house crying away her frustration. Like the previous two days, she had decided to visit her parents only to be told by a neighbour that they had left for their annual Christmas trip. Hermione should have known about this, it was one of the elements of the false memory she had given them to ensure that they moved often enough. She hadn't expected the sense of loss she had suffered by hearing that they had left. She hadn't expected to cry as if she had lost her parents for the first time.

"They'll be back soon, you know." A familiar voice said curtly, yet not unkindly, from the patch of garden on the other side of the fence.

Hermione wiped her eyes hurriedly as one hand reached for her wand. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

He shrugged as he looked away from her. She couldn't help but think that he was different from how he had been when they were at Hogwarts together. He was more solemn, less rude.

When he didn't say anything more, she fixed him with a stern glare, knowing that her eyes were still red with tears. "What are you doing here? Not in Wales, but _here_ specifically? They told me that you help out sometimes by getting the groceries. Why would you do that?"

He met her eyes briefly before looking away again. "They said they'll be back in a week's time, in time for Christmas. No point sitting there and waiting for them. You'll freeze."

Hermione shook her head and looked away from him. If he was going to be stubborn, she was determined to be just as stubborn.

"Your folks…" he began, haltingly. "I was not sure where to go. I met them, recognised them, but they didn't recognise me."

Hermione looked up only to see him focusing intently on the fence, his thumb tearing into the paint.

When his eyes finally met hers, he hesitated before saying stiffly, "Would you like a cup of tea? It's particularly cold today."

Hermione waited a moment, wondering if this was some form of joke before she pushed herself off the back steps and stood up. "That sounds lovely."

He didn't smile, but he did nod, as he waited until she joined him.

Her parents had told her that he joins them for supper every Sunday after they attend church. Perhaps, if she went with him, she could understand what had changed Draco Malfoy.

.


	75. Even After

**A/N - Written for the dmhgchallenge  
**

* * *

**Prompt : Wand(s)  
**

**Title: **Even After

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

Entering the prison cell, Harry got on his haunches to stare into the eyes of an enemy from long ago.

"He hasn't spoken in months," a guard said. "I don't think he knows how."

Malfoy eyed him steadily before reaching towards Harry's wand. Harry hesitated only for a moment.

"Mr Potter!"

Harry ignored them as Malfoy took it carefully.

Malfoy closed his eyes as a Patronus burst forth, a playful otter swirling around Harry, as he stayed grim.

_Hermione_.

"I want him transferred to St. Mungo's."

"Why—?"

"Because even though he killed my best friend's killer, he hasn't found peace."

.


	76. An Act of Kindness

**A/N - Written for the dmhgchallenge  
**

* * *

**Prompt : Innocence  
**

**Title: **An Act of Kindness

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"It was me, Professor."

The students turned to stare at Granger. She faltered but stayed determined.

Minerva McGonagall looked more displeased than anyone. "Very well. Follow me."

As she passed him, Draco did something he promised he would never do in his life. He grabbed a Mudblood by her sleeve.

"Why would you do that?" he hissed. "You know it was me."

"I also know why you did it." He followed her gaze so it landed on Goyle, who he had cheated for. "There's nothing wrong with a little kindness."

He owed Hermione Granger. This should have upset him more.

.

A/N - I haven't been here in a while. Sorry about that. Just been really busy.

Just wanted to let you know that I have extended the story "If Given The Chance" (chapter 71) into a multi-chapter story that I will be posting soon. I won't be taking down the chapter from here, though. Also, me and a few authors have partaken in writing a Draco/Hermione crack!fic. It's pure craziness. The username is **modlyrobin** here, although, you'll be able to find more chapters over at AO3 and Hawthorn & Vine.

* * *

You should check out the story of,

**The Terrible Tale of Pirate Granger & her First Mate Or Soon-To-Be-Ex**


	77. Muggle vs Magical

**A/N - Written for the dmhgchallenge  
**

* * *

**Prompt : 'It's a dragon'  
**

**Title: **Muggle v. Magical

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** Don't worry, I know that the descriptions are not right. Draco though... ;D

.

"Look up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane!"

"It's a dragon."

Hermione glared at her husband. "The whole point of this exercise is to teach our two-year-old the difference between the magical and the Muggle world. Dragons are _not_ Muggle." She ignored the squeal of laughter when Draco threw their daughter an exasperated look.

"Oh, I don't know about that. I think she knows the difference well," said her husband.

He met his daughter's eyes seriously.

"Potter."

"Idiot, blind, Muggle!" she cried excitedly.

"Weasley."

"Idiot, ginger, magical!"

He patted her head. "That's all she needs to know."

.


	78. Late Night in the Library

**A/N - Written for the hp humpdrabbles... So yeah, it's humping stuff. ;D  
**

* * *

**Prompt : **I want to find a corner of the library with you, push you against some shelves, and shake a few books off.

**Title: **Late Night in the Library

**Rating:** NC17

**Word Count: **522

**Warnings:** Almost kind of smut.

.

The very idea that Draco was attracted to his adversary caused an unwanted shiver to travel up his spine. The very thought of having her completely naked in front of him, writhing under him with swear words coming out of her perfect and proper lips, kept him up at night until he would think to sod it all and take himself in hand. The very fact that right now, she was breathing heavily, her cheeks red, her eyes wide with the realisation that she had dared _slap_ him, caused his heart to race so ridiculously fast that his eyes darkened as he stared her down.

She stepped back until her back hit the shelves full of books in the Hogwarts library. He stepped forward, feeling the sting her hand left on his cheek like a bitter taste in his mouth.

They were Head Boy and Girl, weren't they? They could solve this disagreement amicably, couldn't they?

She could stop licking her lips, couldn't she?

He didn't mean to kiss her, or grab her, or push himself against her when she released a whimper of surprise. He didn't mean for his actions to be hurried when she kissed back, his hands going under her robes and under her skirts to pull her up, letting her legs wrap around his waist while her fingers buried themselves in his hair and her nails scratched the nape of his neck tantalisingly. He did not intend to arch against her, giving her room so she could rotate her hips against his.

He did not intend to groan when she rubbed against his hardening member, the rough material of his trousers almost painful with the blinding pleasure. But he did intend for her to let out a breathy moan, one which he made her repeat by attacking her neck and whispering the dirty, filthy things he would like to do to her.

He wanted nothing more than to rip off her knickers with his teeth. He told her as much as his hands wrapped around her bum, a finger going so far as to feel the wetness pooling in the middle of her knickers. Before long they were moving against each other almost jerkily, her hips rotating, his hips thrusting, and her hand running down his chest to brush against his straining member.

What Draco did not foresee was that he would push against her so hard that he would lose his balance, hit her, and watch the book case they were leaning against fall down with them clumsily landing on top of it. She groaned and he looked up.

Two second years stared at them, completely wide-eyed before Draco growled in displeasure. "Say a word and you get detention for a whole year." They blinked at him. "With _Filch_." They ran out of the library as quick as they could.

She looked up at him, completely scandalised. "All right there, Granger? Want to try that again?"

With a squeal of protest, she pushed him off her and swatted at his shoulder until he apologised. He chose to kiss her into silence, instead.

.


	79. Against The Grain

**A/N - Written for the dmhg challenge  
**

* * *

**Prompt : **Shrieking Shack

**Title: **Against The Grain

**Rating:** PG13

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** Implied violence.

.

They were children once, fighting to one up each other.

That was years ago when Hogwarts had been safe, a lifetime before he would even allow her own blood-soaked hands to touch his side in a shack that creaked too often.

"It's going to be fine," she whispered, her hair loose and matted as she pressed harder to keep him from bleeding out. "I'll get you out of this."

He chuckled despite himself. "Always the optimist, Granger."

She didn't smile.

"You should go—"

"No."

"You know who I work for."

She said nothing, settling beside him to wait for help.

.


	80. In The Wake Of A Dream

**A/N - I don't say it enough, but thank you to everyone who takes the time and effort to leave a review, even it is a one word 'lol' or an in-depth discussion. I really do appreciate them all, and I read every single one as soon as they are posted. So, thank you.  
**

**Written for the hp halloween fest for marblemeadow  
**

* * *

**Prompt : **Horror, Potion

**Title:** In The Wake Of A Dream

**Rating:** R

**Word Count: **200

**Warnings:** Implied violence.

.

In her dream, she walks barefoot on cold stone down a dark hallway with flickering candlelight.

She hears soft whispers and moans, distant at first, but then the sounds become louder with each cautious step until she turns a corner and she sees him there.

It has been months since she had last seen him, months since spiteful words were spoken and goodbyes were left unsaid. She sees him on his knees, wearing torn robes drenched in blood while his hair remains golden and untouched.

His eyes widen when he sees her. He whispers her name like a prayer falling from his lips, while his gaze studies her reverently.

But, before she can reach him, just as her hand almost touches the stubble on his cheek, she awakes from the slumber with a gasp.

She coughs up the potion that she had drunk, her eyes tearing from the soreness of her throat.

"I saw him," she mutters sadly. "I saw Draco. He's still alive, Harry."

Her best friend's expression is grim. "Then we go back."

A sound of protest erupts, but Harry silences the people around them with a look. "Hermione?"

"We go back," she says. "We go back for my husband."

.


	81. New and Deadly

**Prompt : **New Beginnings

**Title:** New and Deadly

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"Is there a problem, Draco?"

Draco winced. "Not in the slightest… _Sir_."

Albus Dumbledore observed the student hanging upside down with amusement. "I assume you displeased Ms Granger?"

Had Draco not being secured onto the wooden beam, he would have fallen in surprise. "_What_?"

"Ah! Young love! I remember it well. Always new." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Always dangerous."

"If you could hand me my wand…"

"Unfortunately, I do not wish to displease Hermione myself."

"But, Sir—"

"She wouldn't forgive me."

"Sir—"

"Next time, ask her to the ball first."

As Dumbledore left, Draco let out a groan of frustration.

_Gryffindors!_

.

.

**A/N - I have been nominated for this year's advent, so thank you to whoever nominated me. :)**

**For those who don't know what this is: **_dhr_advent_** is a fest where dramione author/artists are invited to participate, based on nominations. From Dec 1 - 24 each day a piece of dramione fanart/fic is revealed to help celebrate the countdown to Christmas. The main communities are at livejournal and dreamwidth, so you should definitely check it out.  
**


	82. Following The Light

**A/N: Written for Lady Fyria for Day 1 of the Christmas Gift Giveaway 2013**

* * *

**Prompt : **Light

**Title:** Following The Light

**Rating:** M15

**Word Count: **1485

**Warnings:** Angst.

.

There is a stream of light he studies. A beam of brightness that shines through the darkness and shows the wooden floor he's laying on, if only briefly. He knows that another day has passed by the placing of the light, from the way it starts small, in the corner of the room, coming closer with every minute, only to disappear fully and plunge him back into darkness. It's the light that keeps him sane; it's the light that keeps him counting.

And the voice. He cannot forget the voice.

"How long?" the voice asks with a whisper.

He closes his eyes as he leans against the stone wall, the shackles around his ankles and wrists rattling slightly with the movement. "Eleven days," he whispers hoarsely.

The voice stays silent for a while. "I wish I could see light."

"I wish I couldn't," he says, mostly to himself.

But she hears him, like she hears all sounds, and he hears the way her chains rattle as she moves. "Draco…"

He collapses into himself, his chest clenching tightly at the way she pleads with him. "I told you… That's not my name."

Her chains rattle. "It is your name. I'm not going to let you forget that."

He opens his eyes and sees nothing but darkness, his eyes falling on the tiny hole above him that his captors had not thought to find. "What's yours?"

She is silent for quite a while, and he even hears the clang of chain hitting chain in a familiar rhythm. "It doesn't matter."

He doesn't find her answer quite that fair. "You know mine."

"You say it's not yours."

He winces, regretting his words. "No, it's not."

The rhythm of clanging chains causes a melody to form in his head. He leans his head against the stone and sighs happily at having something to focus on.

"What should I call you, then?"

His lips quirk, despite the pain he feels in his aching limbs. "Why should you call me anything?"

He hears a light rustle, and he wonders if she is newer than he is, with robes that still rustle when she moves.

"So that you know I'm talking to you," she says smoothly.

He chuckles, the sound hurting his throat. "We are the only two here."

Her next words chill him, freezing him in ways he didn't think were possible. "No, we aren't."

He stares out at a nothing but never ending darkness, his hands and legs curling into himself with sudden fear. "Who else is out there?" His words drip with fear, and a violent tremour goes through his body—but he does not care.

The sound of a closing door startles him.

"Who's there?" he yells, his eyes studying the darkness in panic. His broken nails dig into the stone wall beside him as his head moves from one side to another, quick and full of terror. "Who's out there?"

"Draco…" her voice says smoothly. "Please calm down."

"No." He shivers, his head shaking with each word. "No, no, no, no, no."

"Draco, please."

"No, stop it. Leave me alone. You shouldn't be in here."

The voice gets softer. "Neither should you. No one should ever be in here. Please, let me help you. You have to trust me."

He laughs then, loud and boisterously, while tears fall unbidden down his cheeks. "You lied. You pretended and said you were like me. Why should I ever trust _you_? You're a liar!"

"Draco—"

"Leave me alone!" He raises both hands and covers his ears, yelling out the mantra with as much power as his frail form will allow. "Leave me alone!"

"Draco! Please!" Her voice gets softer. "I'm only here to help you."

He takes in a deep breath, one that fills his lungs and soothes his rapidly beating heart. "No." He whimpers against his better judgment. Did he not once think that he must be strong? And if that fails, that he must appear to be strong? But all he feels is weak and all he senses is hopelessness.

"No," he says again. "You're here to destroy me, just like everyone else."

He tries to stand on impulse, his fingers burying inside the grooves of stone on either side of him to help him to his feet. He is weak, and he slips, falling onto the wooden floor with a dull thunk that causes his breath to hitch.

"No," he mutters, almost pleadingly now. "Leave me alone."

"Draco," the voice says again, even softer, even gentler, "you have to help me try."

He shakes his head and buries his face on his raised knees, wrapping his arms around his legs as if they are armour protecting him from pain. "You only want to hurt me."

"No," the voice says brokenly. "Never."

There is a truth to those words, but he has been in this darkness too long to trust in the voice, to trust anyone.

"Leave me alone," he says again.

"Draco—"

"Leave me alone!" he murmurs, rocking in place. "Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!"

"Please! Draco! Don't do this." The voice gets softer, almost a whisper.

"Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!"

"Draco—" The voice is even more muted, almost gone.

"Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!"

The sound that greets him is silence.

* * *

Hermione blinked open her eyes rapidly, partly because it was hard to see such bright lights around her and partly because the tears kept falling and she didn't want anyone to see. She wiped her cheeks and her eyes lightly before lifting her wand from Draco Malfoy's temple.

All around her stood trainee-Healers from St. Mungo's, wearing white and taking notes as she taught them the latest in mental healing exercises. When she looked up from her seat, she noticed her students staring at her with wide eyes, the scratching of their quills having stopped quite a while ago.

"It's hard," she said, adopting her lecturing tone easily. "Most patients like Draco Malfoy who choose to lock themselves in their own minds need to be coaxed out gently. I have been the lead Healer for Mr Malfoy's case for the past three years, and even though he has yet to follow my voice and come back to reality, he has grown to trust me." She smiled wryly. "Somewhat."

A tentative hand rose, surprising Hermione by the question that followed. "What happened to him? Why is he like that?"

Hermione faltered, stifling the need to take his hand and focusing on her students instead. "He was an Auror, for a while. There was a fight, and one curse that he took while saving Harry's life was the Memorius curse."

"Harry?" a trainee blurted out suddenly, his tone one of awe. "As in Harry Potter?"

Hermione simply nodded. "The curse was a recent discovery by our Healers. It makes a person live their worst moments over and over again. Some go mad, others, like Draco, choose to retreat into their minds, to find a safe place and lock themselves in."

"How long has he stayed like this?" another trainee asked.

Hermione fought the urge to cry, clearing her throat to give her time. "Years," she said somewhat fondly, her voice taking on a pained tone as she spoke. "He has gone through quite a lot of terrors."

Looking up, she nodded at her colleague and fellow Healer, Peter Rington, who immediately drew the attention of the trainees. "Right. Next up, my favourite patient in the ward. She's the most generous person I've ever come across." He stepped forward and gestured towards the door. "Let's go meet Alice Longbottom." Peter gave her shoulder a quick squeeze as he passed her, his expression an understanding one as he led everyone out of the room that held the patient who was seemingly peacefully asleep.

Hermione stayed seated beside the bed as the room emptied, her back straightening with preparation as she muttered the incantation and placed the wand back against his temple.

She located him easily, having been in his mind too many times to count.

_I'm sorry_, she thought gently as her eyes closed. _I didn't mean it_.

_Will you stay?_ he asked.

_Not for long._

She was met with silence, causing her to ask him gently, _Do you want me to stay?_

His response made her heart soar. Because all it took was a simple '_yes_' for Hermione to sit longer than she needed to, at her husband's side.

_Fin._

**A/N2**: So that's one down. 24 more to go! Not all are Dramione, so this won't be updated until another Dramione story comes up to bat.


	83. The Escape

**A/N: Written for Wolness for Day 5 of the Christmas Gift Giveaway 2013**

* * *

**Prompt :** _"They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourselves" - Andy Warhol + a kiss in the rain_

**Title:** The Escape

**Rating:** G

**Word Count:** 1128

**Warnings:** None.

.

The day the war ends, the one that he was willingly a part of—dragged into—whatever they might call it, he reads about it in the Daily Prophet.

His fingers trace the black ink as he mouths the words he reads, his own lips finally whispering the forbidden word of 'Voldemort' over and over. He reads about the account as if he hadn't been there: the siege on Hogwarts castle, the brief belief that Harry Potter had died, the destruction of the Dark Magic known as Horcruxes, and the names of those who had given their lives for others. Finally, he reads the account of how good won against evil by the death of the Dark Lord who had created terror in everyone's minds for nearly twenty years.

He remembers a slightly different version from what is recounted to the public, where all he could see was blood and all he could hear were screams. His jaw tightens as he studies the moving picture of Harry Potter, a part of him holding onto the dark dislike he had harboured for the one person who, what seems like only moments ago, saved his life.

But the war is not over—not really. Not when everyone eyes him with distrust before their gazes fall onto his left forearm.

He stays a month after the war ends before leaving. A month of snide remarks and Ministry inquiries, a month of suffering in silence with his family and staying in isolation from all that has ever made him happy. He can't be himself, not in the one place where everyone knows what he had done and judges him for it.

He would miss his mother the most, he knows, but she had been silent for so long, her spirit crushed from his father's depression. Their family had lost everything by supporting the wrong side. He wants no part of it.

On Wednesday, one month and a week after the fall of Voldemort, Draco packs a few items in a knapsack he once used for school and Apparates away from the Manor. He wants to see the world. He always had. This was the perfect time. 

* * *

Florence is far from the romantic city his mother had once told him it was. He spends a day walking the streets, seeing nothing but the flaws rather than the beauty. He wonders why this place was untouched from a war that had claimed so many lives, including his friend's. He walks the streets in silence, listening to the foreign tongue and studying the way people, who do know him, act. He finds it fascinating. He spends most of his days wishing that his life is like theirs.

He stays for three weeks before he decides that he must move on. He tells himself that it has nothing to do with a familiar face he saw on the twentieth day of his vacation. 

* * *

Paris is familiar. His father had done business in this city long time ago when Draco was a child. He never accompanied his father for those meetings; rather, he stayed at a Malfoy family home on the outskirts of France that is enchanted to be hidden amongst the Muggle buildings that had been built around it for the past few centuries. His father did take him out once in a while, although those outings were never quite what he had expected.

Now, he watches those Muggles that his father had made sure he avoided all those years ago. He sees the way they walk, the way they talk, the way they conduct business, and in some cases, the way they show affection.

If he had been a different wizard, perhaps he would have identified the feeling in his chest as loneliness. But, he thinks it's something else. In his mind, they disgust him, their distasteful behaviour making him want to go back home, if only for a little while.

Fifteen days he stays in Paris, until a familiar face forces him to retreat. 

* * *

It is on a beach on Euboea that he finally comes face to face with that familiar visage. He is enjoying day thirteen on the one Greek island his gran had never stopped talking about when his pursuer sits opposite him at a local pub. His first impulse is to order her ouzo, the perfect liquor on a Greek isle, which he does without having to raise his head from the book lying on his lap.

She leans forward, ignoring the drink completely. "You have to come back with me."

"I don't have to do anything." And because he can, he smiles. "Have a good day, Granger."

She doesn't follow him the way he expects her to, but he leaves the island for greener pastures, anyway. 

* * *

He barely spends a day in Graz when she finds him. He finds the city as romantic as Florence, which would mean that, if people were asked, they would say that he doesn't see the beauty of things. He finds it memorable for other reasons. It's quaint, quiet, and when he tries to lose her, he almost does.

"You have to come with me."

"See? That's the thing, isn't it, Granger?" he says as he keeps walking, knowing that she is only a few steps behind him. "You keep saying that, but I don't believe you."

"I'm trying to help you."

"You were _assigned_ to help me. Big difference there, Granger."

"Malfoy!" she yells as she quickens her pace. "This is mad! What you are doing is mad! You can get your family fortune back. All you need to do is come back with me and tell the Ministry what really happened. Tell them that you were coerced into doing what you did. Explain about your mother, your father. Malfoy! Are you listening to me? Malfoy!"

By the time she turns the corner, he's gone. 

* * *

It ends in a way he doesn't expect. It ends with his fingers in her hair, with her lips on his as they stand on the street in the summer rain of a small town in South America.

It ends because she's chased him for two years around the world, hunting him, talking to him, and unknowingly becoming his friend. It ends because one day, he decided to kiss her, and the day after, he finally does.

It finally ends because she kisses him back, without thought and without worry about what is right and what is wrong.

It finally ends when she uses his hold on her to Apparate him home and get his fortune back.


	84. A Guide In What Not To Do

**A/N: Written for Sierralim91 for Day 8 of the Christmas Gift Giveaway 2013**

* * *

**Prompt :** _Draco attempts to propose to Hermione and it goes horribly wrong._

**Title:** A Guide In What Not To Do

**Rating:** G

**Word Count:** 1334

**Warnings:** None.

.

It had been Pansy's idea; at least, that's what he planned to tell anyone who intended to ask him why exactly he was currently kneeling in a puddle of watery muck with a parrot sitting on his shoulder (incidentally, the bird was cooing very inappropriate things into his ear).

Around him stood an assortment of his almost-friends, unlikely-friends, most-likely-enemies, most-likely-future-enemies, and George Weasley, who Draco has still to decide which category to consider him under.

What irked him most was the Creevey with the camera who couldn't help but snap away, causing Draco to be semi-blinded by the flash as it went on for a minute and a half.

All of this Hermione suffered in silence—partly because she was blinded by a blindfold as well as having her hands tied behind her back, but mostly because of a completely (and he would keep saying this until he was taken to his grave) unexpected turn of events—her mouth spelled shut. The fact that she, too, was covered with watery muck while seated on the floor of the Ministry Ballroom did not help matters either.

It was Potter who finally stepped forward and spelled her hands free, the blindfold off, and let her lips part for the first time in ten minutes since the disaster had occurred.

It only took one look at Draco for Hermione to grit her teeth and growl the words out. "What… did… you… _do?_"

Draco's mouth opened with the intention to tell her something—anything—that might appease the situation.

What he ended up saying was the one thing he had planned on saying before things had gone horribly wrong. "Um… Will you marry me?"

Silence reigned. Hermione Granger was probably made speechless for the first time in years.

Of course, that was when the parrot decided to squawk "Would you like edible panties?" as loud as it could. 

* * *

**Two Hours Ago**

The plan was a splendid one. Almost everyone he knew was in on it. With Pansy being the second-most organised out of all those he trusted (which, in all fairness, was a total of three people when Hermione was included), Draco had no choice but to place his trust in her.

He still had a few reservations about the whole plan, though. He really couldn't help it.

"Why the Ministry?"

Pansy shrugged, her tone bored as she looked over the financial projections for the Ministry of Magic for the coming quarter. "You told me she liked it to be a big spectacle. This is a big spectacle."

Draco shook his head as he decided to focus on his own work. There was ample time to worry about the whole plan later, after all.

"Then it's settled. There will be a magical waterfall, charmed to keep the rest of the ballroom dry, a tropical garden with birds that sing sweet songs, and a sunny weather spell to keep the area dry and private."

"If I didn't know any better, I would have never thought that you could organise something of this magnitude."

"I didn't," Pansy said with a mischievous smile. "I stole this wedding proposal idea from Sean on the third floor. After today, Valerie will get the shock of her lifetime when he does the exact same thing—for her."

Draco couldn't help but laugh. This was why he enjoyed the company of fellow Slytherins. They knew the best way to get things done.

What no one knew was that a certain George Weasley had applied a reverse spell on the Ministry Ballroom for purely innocent reasons that no one could fault him for. (He repeatedly told people that he did not know of the plans that happened to be on a piece of parchment in Parkinson's date book, which he did not browse while they had had their brief meeting half an hour before.

No, sir, George Weasley was as innocent as any Weasley could get). 

* * *

**One Year Ago**

Hermione did as all best friends were expected to do and gave Ron a running leap into a hug that he reciprocated by lifting her up and twirling her.

"Congratulations!" she squealed, genuinely happy for her best friend. "I'm so glad it all worked."

"Thanks, Hermione." Ron squeezed her tight one last time before placing her down gently. "It was a nightmare." His glance fell on something over her shoulder, and Hermione couldn't help but follow his gaze over to Pansy Parkinson, who was busy talking to Harry. Her gaze flitted back to her best friend, who grinned. "But it was worth it."

"It was, wasn't it?" She lightly punched his arm and beamed widely at him. "Why didn't you ever put this much effort into schoolwork?"

Ron scrunched up his face in distaste before whining in a very adult manner. "Hermione!"

"Sorry, sorry. I know I promised. I won't mention it again."

He looked at her pointedly.

"For the next week, at least."

Ron laughed. "Well, I better go. She's calling me."

Just as Ron left her, Draco appeared with a distasteful expression on his face. "I don't like the food."

Hermione tried her best to hide a smile. "You never like the food wherever we go."

"There's a reason for that," he muttered haughtily. "It's awful."

Shaking her head, Hermione stepped forward so she could drop her voice easily. "Thank you for coming. I know that engagement parties are not something you're fond of, particularly surprise engagement parties where the bride is asked the question in front of her friends and family."

"It's a useless celebration."

"Which is why I appreciate the effort you made. I never thought I'd see the day when Ron would make such a spectacle of a proposal."

Draco eyed her incredulously, his lips pursing in disapproval. "Why shouldn't he? Pansy deserves it."

"That is not what I mean, and you know it. I only meant that it's nice to see someone put so much effort into one simple question. Not all men are like that."

"Trust me, Granger," Draco said in a bored tone as his hand splayed across her lower back to lead her towards the buffet. "If ever I decide to propose, it would make this event seem like an accident."

Hermione raised a mocking eyebrow at him. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

Draco turned to look at her, and unable to stop himself, he leant forward and placed a light kiss on her cheek. "A bit of both." 

* * *

**Two Minutes After**

Hermione blinked rapidly at Draco before she launched herself towards him, tossing the bird aside (who was very rude in his departure) and snogging him senseless.

Draco responded with gusto, relieved that, as much a mess as he might have caused, at least she had a positive answer to give him. He hardly noticed the roaring cheer that went up the moment her lips had connected to his.

Hermione pulled back quickly to hit him upside the head.

"Ow! Granger!" He pouted, touching the back of his head gingerly. "That hurt."

Hermione got up on shaky legs and wagged her finger at him sternly. "Draco Malfoy, you clean this mess at once. And then, only then, will I say 'yes' to your question."

Draco watched her march away, completely flabbergasted by the turn of events. By the facial expressions that surrounded him, he figured that his confusion was shared with quite a few of his co-workers as well.

Weaselbee shook his head as if he was the wisest bloke in the Ministry. "It was all you, mate."

Before Draco could respond, Draco's parrot settled right back on his shoulder, opened its wings and squawked, "Gingers are stupid!"

As Weaselbee's expression darkened considerably, Draco petted the bird happily. At least someone was on his side.


	85. With Mysterious Gifts

**A/N: Written for Scarlettcat for Day 9 of the Christmas Gift Giveaway 2013**

* * *

**Prompt :** _The perils of head duties - Upside down kiss_

**Title:** With Mysterious Gifts Come Great Suspicion

**Rating:** G

**Word Count:** 1193

**Warnings:** None.

.

Draco Malfoy was not the subtle kind of Head Prefect, so when he was told there was a disturbance in the main hallway of Hogwarts, he couldn't help but roll his eyes and use Crabbe and Goyle to push other students aside to give him room.

"What do you think it is?" Crabbe asked with a tone of awe.

"Don't be stupid." Draco took a bit of his apple and straightened his back to give the illusion that he knew what he was doing. "It's a present."

Goyle leant towards Draco and whispered, "A present for who?"

Looking around at the students surrounding them, Draco took in all their curious faces. There were rarely any seventh years, most of the students who were staring at the very large—albeit very impressive gift—were mostly first through third years.

"You there!" He pointed to a second year Hufflepuff. "Do you know who left this gift here?"

The boy yelped as his fellow classmates pushed him forward. "N-no, Sir." He stammered. "I-I mean, I might—"

"Out with it."

"There's a name, I think."

Draco's eyes narrowed as he stepped closer to the large, gift-wrapped box. "Where is it? I don't see any name."

The boy stared at him wide-eyed before suddenly he turned on his heel and ran, pushing aside his classmates so he could escape.

Draco smirked as he shared a meaningful look with Crabbe and Goyle. "Hufflepuffs." The three of them snickered before Draco took another leisurely bite of his apple and started to walk around the gift. He enjoyed it immensely when the students stepped back when he happened to pass them.

"I don't see any name. Do you, Crabbe? Goyle?"

He was lying, obviously. There was a Christmas card tied to the large ribbon that was wrapped around the box. He need only lift the card to know whom the box needed to be delivered to.

Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other with confusion as Crabbe vaguely gestured to the present. "Um…"

"There is a card, Draco," Goyle said gallantly as he stepped forward and plucked it from the ribbon. "See?"

Draco gritted his teeth before he, very innocently, chucked the half-eaten apple at Goyle's head. "No, you idiot."

Goyle backed away as if he had been hurt, but that didn't stop Draco from moving around the present until he was standing beside Goyle and taking the card from his hand.

"What card?" he asked with a meaningful look. He stuffed the card into the pocket of his robes and looked around at the rest of the students. "Anyone else see a card?"

They all looked at him uncomfortably, a very few older students whispering behind their hands at each other. Draco decided to use this golden opportunity.

"That's what I thought. Now, get back to your common rooms unless you want detention for the next month."

The students scrambled, running and jumping over each other to get away from the strictest Head Boy they had ever come across.

Crabbe waited until the last student turned the corner before he turned to face Draco. "What's your plan then?"

"Plan?" Draco scoffed. "I'm going to see whose gift this is." Pulling out the card, he flipped it open only for his eyes to widen a fraction and his smirk to widen devilishly. "Well, this changes things."

"What does it say?" Goyle asked curiously as he tried to look over Draco's shoulder.

Draco slapped him away as he turned to face the large box that had been placed conspicuously in front of the Great Hall. "It says," he said with much enthusiasm, "Merry Christmas, Hermione."

Crabbe and Goyle shared a quick look, which Draco barely noticed because he was too busy studying the box. "No doubt it's from that clumsy oaf Weasley, or even Potter."

Crabbe shifted from one foot to the other nervously. "Maybe we shouldn't open it."

Draco narrowed his eyes at him. "Why not?"

"She's the Head Girl!" Goyle said quickly, coming to his friend's defence. "She won't be happy."

"It's Granger," Draco said with a scoff. "She's never happy." He turned towards the present, his grin widening further. "Besides, what's the worst that could happen?" 

* * *

Hermione was concentrating hard on her potions essay when the sudden commotion outside the Great Hall finally reached her ears. Pushing aside her homework and her cold food, she got to her feet with the other students and made her way through the noisy crowd. What she saw was a certain Malfoy hanging upside with invisible rope while he spouted out insults at anyone who refused to help him down.

Hermione could hardly stop herself from bursting out laughing.

"You!" Draco's eyes narrowed, which seemed more comical than deadly since he was hanging upside down amongst snickering students. "You did this."

The students stepped aside to let her pass, an act Hermione welcomed with great happiness. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Draco."

His eyes narrowed further at the way she used his first name. "Don't you, _Hermione?_"

Her smile fell, and his grew.

"This was clearly you."

"Actually, no, it was clearly you. Opening other people's presents, were you, Malfoy?"

"That is hardly the point." He struggled against his invisible bindings, his arms flailing comically. "Get me down this instant."

"Oh, I wish I could, Malfoy," she said teasingly as she stepped forward. "But I don't help thieves."

She was teasing him although she was close enough to touch, and by a completely random thought that came into his head, Draco realised that she was also close enough to kiss. Because nothing would annoy her more, regardless of how distasteful the mere idea was in his head.

As she began to turn around, he did the unthinkable. Grabbing her with both of his free hands, he kept her still as he swung towards her and kissed her with all his might. His nose bumped into her cheek, her nose bumped into his, but what he really couldn't help but notice was how Granger kissed him back.

A collective gasp went up from around them, which caused her to pull back and eye him incredulously. Draco hardly noticed, because hanging the way he was, he really did have a great view down Granger's robes.

She slapped him, making him wince with the stinging pain as his cheek was hit hard enough to move his head to the side. Blinking rapidly, he saw the way she turned on her heel and marched away from him with her head held high. To add insult to injury, she mumbled the incantation to free him, which only made him fall to the floor with a very undignified yelp.

Goyle and Crabbe rushed to him as the snickering students dispersed. He may or may not have glared at them, which in this school, as Head Boy, it was a sufficient threat that all students knew they should take seriously.

"You all right?"

Draco winced as he sat up and held his head. The truth was, he was seeing stars. Now, all he had to find out was, if he saw stars because Granger hit him or kissed him. If it was the latter, he was in for some really big trouble.


	86. A Wish and A Request

**A/N: Written dmhg challenge for December  
**

* * *

**Prompt :** _A Mistletoe Wish  
_

**Title:** A Wish and A Request

**Rating:** G

**Word Count:** 100

**Warnings:** None.

.

"Tell me what you really want," Draco sneered.

"I want you to leave me alone," Hermione said. "Forever!"

His smile widened, even though it didn't reach his eyes. "Fine."

"Good."

"Brilliant!"

They both turned away from each other and started in opposite directions, only to find themselves stuck, before a force threw them together, back-to-back. Struggling, Hermione hissed, "What did you do?"

"What did _you_ do?"

"This is your fault."

"Like everything else?"

George nudged his brother. "That's not what I think it is, is it?"

Fred winced. "Magical Opposite Mistletoe...?"

Silently, they both decided _not_ to tell Hermione together.


	87. For Lost Time

**A/N: Written dhr_advent 2013. Thank you to the person who nominated me for this fest. I'm honoured.  
**

* * *

**Prompt :** _Secret Santa__  
_

**Title:** For Lost Time

**Rating:** G

**Word Count:** 1649

**Warnings:** None.

.

He isn't captivated by the words he hears, or the people he sees, but only her. She stands opposite him amongst a crowd wearing black, her hair messy and brown, just like he remembers. He watches her as the last rites are read and the coffin is lowered into the snow-covered ground. More words are spoken, and despite how much it hurts, his gaze flits towards his mother's last resting place before they meet warm, brown eyes.

Her smile is soft and full of sadness, and his smile mirrors her own without much thought. By the time the crowd disperses and the people say their regrets, she's gone.

It's not how he ever envisioned celebrating his fortieth birthday.

* * *

The gift he finds on his doorstep is a small one. It's a simple wooden box that no charm can open. He tries using a hammer, even a well-aimed flame, but it does not bend nor break. He places it on his desk so that it is a constant reminder of a gift he must open once he figures out how. He will be lying if he says that this hopeless situation doesn't make him laugh.

She had always been the only one who could help take his mind off anything, after all. And she is doing that splendidly with this gift.

He plays with the small box, tossing it and catching it whenever he is puzzled by work. He likes to flip it over the table when he happens to be bored. He even uses it as a paperweight on days when he is too busy to do anything else but bury himself in work.

Yet, at the stroke of midnight on Christmas Eve, when he is alone, sitting near the fireplace in his study and nursing a glass of Ogden's best, the soft click startles him.

He moves towards the box that had popped open of its own accord and looks inside cautiously. What he finds is a flower. It's an unassuming bud that blooms the moment he takes it into his hand. He thinks of a memory that is so vivid that it almost seems to have happened yesterday, a memory that consists of warm lips and a happy picnic on a particularly sunny day a long time ago.

He smiles, he laughs, and without meaning to, he cries.

* * *

He doesn't actively look for her. He had promised her that much. He decides to keep that promise by getting others to do the deed for him.

He first sends an investigator, who spends too much time and money without much result. When he loses hope, he sends his house-elf, who comes back quickly with a place.

He finds her in a shop holding hands with a child who has the hair of someone he hasn't seen in quite a while. She looks happy as she helps the child pick presents and sternly disagrees with the boy when he chooses something Weasley-worthy. He doesn't stay long, although the image is burned too brightly in his mind to forget.

* * *

The following Christmas he finds a familiar wooden box on his doorstep. It is similar to the first in shape and size. It doesn't open either, and he places it on his desk, watching it without conscious thought as he waits for the day when the box opens.

As expected, it opens just as the clock strikes twelve midnight on Christmas Eve. He has seated himself at the desk, glass in hand, waiting for the soft _click_. The moment he hears it, he leans forward, wondering what gift he has been given this year.

What he finds is a miniature ice sculpture of a woman that is smaller than the palm of his hand. It is cold to the touch as he places it on the desk. She turns and twirls and freezes into a pose that he recognizes instantly.

Turning her back to him, she freezes, looking at him over her shoulder with her tongue sticking out as if to mock him. He had seen that pose so many times, he has lost count. It was a gesture he had seen her make whenever he happened to be right and she happened to be wrong. There was one instance in particular where she promised to spend her whole life proving him wrong.

He keeps the ice sculpture permanently on his desk after he charms it to ensure that it will never melt.

He makes a promise to himself to go see her.

* * *

He doesn't find her as easily as he once did. Whenever his house-elf returns with news, he finds that he is too late by the time he Apparates to the place where his house-elf had found her. He curses the fact that the Golden Trio have kept their whereabouts secret for years to keep their families safe from the nosy public.

He further curses the fact that she is too well-versed in spells to let a simple locator charm find her.

Another year passes without him meeting her face to face.

* * *

This year, when the box arrives, he doesn't wait for it to open. He keeps it in his pocket and makes the decision to break the promise that she had made him keep for over twenty years.

He asks around and looks for her, but no one seems to know anything more than what he knew. Potter nearly slams the door in his face, while his wife is cool towards him but kinder in her words. She tells him that Hermione doesn't want to be found and that as her friends, they owe it to her to keep her secret.

He nearly casts a curse when he fails to find Weasley in time.

At midnight on Christmas Eve, the box opens to reveal a key he had once given her. He curses to himself when he finally understands what the gifts mean, Apparating on the spot with the intention of going back to the Manor in time.

He finds her sitting on the grand front steps of Malfoy Manor, wrapped in layers of wool and a Weasley-made jumper. He is not quite sure exactly what to say, but when she looks up and catches him staring at her, he takes her small smile as an invitation and joins her on the snow-covered steps.

"I wasn't sure if you were coming."

He curls into himself as the cold wind picks up and shifts so that he can see her. She looks older than he remembers but not so different than how he imagined her to be. "I wasn't sure if the gifts were from you."

A simple lie that she recognises because from the way she smiles, he feels his heart lighten. "I must have been too subtle, then."

He smirks. "You must have been."

"I'll try to be more specific next time."

He looks away from her, wondering if she will leave once he asks the question that he has wanted to ask. He decides to ask her, anyway. "Why couldn't I find you?"

She stiffens, her eyes widening in panic. "You said you wouldn't look for me."

"I didn't look for you. Not until you sent that first gift."

He watches as her shoulders relax and she shrugs. "I've been travelling a lot, focusing on improving Muggle health and on magical reforms in other countries. A lot of countries are not like England. They don't believe in the equality between wizards and creatures. Someone had to go there personally and argue for the change."

"And Weasley?" he asks suddenly, hating how his voice cracks over the name.

She looks at him with honest confusion. "What does Ron have to do with anything?"

"Are you still with him?" He wishes that she hadn't worn gloves so he could see her left hand and discover the information for himself. "I saw you two years ago in the Weasleys' joke shop."

Her face scrunches up with confusion for a moment before realisation dawns. "That was Harry and Ginny's son." She shakes her head, her eyes sad. "Draco, I haven't been with anyone. Not since you and I—"

He kisses her hard and fast, his hand curling around the nape of her neck to keep her close. She responds willingly, and it is no wonder that it takes them quite a while to part. He keeps his grip tight around her and is not disappointed when she determinedly holds onto him as if she will never let him go.

"I thought you hadn't forgiven me after you didn't come meet me after the first box I sent."

"I didn't understand what it meant until tonight."

"I was too subtle, then," she says sadly.

"I wasn't sure you wanted to see me again."

"Why would you think that?"

"You told me not to come after you, and I did just that."

"I asked you to."

"But, I didn't have to listen to you." He raises a gloved hand to lightly touch her cheek. "Mother told me what she had done just before she died." He watches the way her eyes widen. "That shouldn't have been a reason for you to leave me."

"She was dying…" Her smile is gentle as a tear escapes down her cheek. "I couldn't do that to her."

His chuckle is small yet pained. "She lived for twenty years more."

"Aren't you happy about that?"

"Ecstatic," he says dryly. Untangling himself from her, he pulls out the third box and gives it to her. "It's always been yours. Shall we? You must be cold." There is more he needs to say, but this is not the time.

She smiles as she gets to her feet and opens the box. Placing the key into the lock, she turns it to hear the familiar _click_ that the Manor doors make.

And together, they enter the Manor, hand in hand.


	88. Linguistic Experts

**A/N: Written UnseenLibrarian for the Christmas Gift Giveaway  
**

* * *

**Prompt :** _They are taking a language class of some sort. Hermione discovers Draco is a clever, cunning linguist.__  
_

**Title:** Linguistic Experts

**Rating:** NC17

**Word Count:** 1202

**Warnings:** A bit of kinkiness. ;D

.

The very last person Hermione ever expected to join her to learn the complex languages of the magical world she lives in was Draco Malfoy. From the first moment he entered the classroom, it was all she could do _not_ to roll her eyes and groan out in frustration at his disregard for all things precious.

It was a well-known fact that any class taken by Malfoy, was only chosen for how easy it was to pass the subject. Many of the students in their year used his personal choices as a compass of sorts to decide which subjects would suit them best. In fact, the only 'easy' subject Malfoy never took was Muggle Studies, which proved that even the one thing he was good for wasn't used for the advancement of wizard and Muggle relations.

The whole idea made Hermione's blood boil.

But, she was determined to be civilised and not let his behaviour affect her. Even when Malfoy happened to strut into the classroom like an over-confident peacock and show off his feathers to those poor, simple-minded students who had decided to follow his example and take the same language class.

After all, she had suffered through most classes successfully even though he tried hard to monopolise the teachers' attentions away from her. He had a nasty habit of ignoring the rules that she held dear to her heart, and nothing annoyed her more than his blatant disregard for something so sacred.

Yet, she was determined, and so, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt… until he happened to open his mouth and utter nonsense came spewing out.

"Giants speak?" he cackled. "I thought they just burp their way through a sentence."

The classroom erupted with boisterous laughter, and Professor Contin pushed her round spectacles down the length of her nose so she could give Malfoy a stern look. "That is enough, Mr Malfoy. We must learn the dialect of Giants before we move on to Gargoyles, Trolls and Gnomes. Only then could we study the complex languages of Veela and Centaurs. Yes, Mr Malfoy?" she asked with exasperation when she saw his hand in the air.

"Why not start with Trolls, Professor?" he asked in a deceptively innocent voice. "After all, Granger is here."

The classroom cackled as Professor Contin tried to bring some semblance of order. Hermione's gaze narrowed as she met Malfoy's amused expression with her own deadly one.

"That's enough!" the Professor said with a no-nonsense tone. "Let's start the lesson."

Hermione tried her best to concentrate on the lesson at hand, but she found herself too worked up, too distracted to focus more than a few minutes at a time. It didn't help matters when she felt little balls of parchment hitting the side of her head courtesy of one very irritating Slytherin.

"Will you _stop it_?" she hissed at him only to receive an easy shrug from the instigator.

"Shan't."

"Ugh."

The class ended up being very, _very_ long. When the time came to take her things and go to a class without him, Hermione thought she had never been happier. She picked up her pace when she felt the unwelcome shiver down her spine that told her that she was being followed.

"Come now, Granger," Malfoy's familiar drawl followed her as she turned fast to take a shortcut to her next lesson. "You don't need to walk that fast. I thought we were friends."

"Leave me a lone, Malfoy."

"See, you say that, but I don't believe you mean it."

"Then you're not a good judge of character."

"Maybe not…" he said casually. "But I'm a great linguist."

Hermione snorted as she walked just a little bit faster.

"Don't you believe me?" he asked, undeterred. He then proceeded to state effortlessly the first few words they had learned during the past hour, in addition to some complex words Hermione knew she had heard before. He surprised her to such a degree that she slowed down her pace without thought.

"Did you just…?"

"Give you some advice regarding that hair of yours?" He smirked. "Yes, I did."

Rolling her eyes, she made a move to leave when he made a suddenly blocked her way. The next words out of his mouth sounded so foreign, so smoothly articulate, that she felt a shiver traipse up her spine.

"What was that?" she asked, panicked.

Malfoy's smirk widened. "You like that, Granger? My grandmother is part Veela. She taught me the language when I was a child. Would you like to know another well-kept secret?" He stepped forward so he could speak the words warmly against her ear. "You smell amazing."

Hermione's eyes widened as she quickly tried to step back, but his grip was fast as he turned her so that her back was pushed against the wall of the deserted hallway.

"Malfoy! What are you—?"

Her lips parted in surprise when he whispered the language against her ear, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin of her cheek and her jaw before he moved lower to the base of her neck. A tingle went up her spine as a warmth spread through her whole body. She even whimpered when she felt his hands circle her waist as he pushed his body against hers.

She closed her eyes as her head fell back against the wall in surprise. The sensations were overwhelming. She couldn't help the moan of pleasure that escaped her whenever his skin touched hers.

"Malfoy… Stop it…" she muttered weakly, even though she could have easily pushed him off her if she had the strength. The words he whispered against her skin made her kneels buckle, and she wished she knew why. It was confusing and dangerous. She found herself clutching him to her before long.

"That's it, Granger," he muttered against her skin, his hands making quick work of opening her robes and lightly gracing his fingers between her thighs. "Accept me."

Before she could say anything, he was suddenly on his knees before her with his mouth on her through her knickers. He whispered words that she didn't understand between long strokes of his tongue as his hands caressed the back of her thighs and her own fingers tangled in his blond strands.

Hermione bucked against him, wantonly moaning as she felt him move aside her knickers so that he could push his tongue inside of her. She came hard and fast, unable to control the sounds that escaped her.

As she finally caught her breath, and the weight of what had happened settled on her shoulders, she watched as Malfoy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up with a confident smirk.

"Looks like my grandmother was right," he whispered seductively. "You're my mate." Stepping back, he let go of her robes so that the material fell down to keep her modesty. "I'll see you around, Granger. We should do this again sometime."

Hermione watched him leave, completely wide-eyed, as her chest continued to heave in agitation.

_What had just happened?_ she wondered with panic as she felt the sweat on her brow. _And why did she want it to happen again?_


	89. Something Old, Something New

**A/N: Written for Hawthorn & Vine's Reverse Challenge 2014.  
**

* * *

**Prompt :** _Sacrifice by absolute (You will have to marry Draco, Ms. Granger - Lucius Malfoy)__  
_

**Title:** Something Old, Something New

**Rating:** M15

**Word Count:** 1538

**Warnings:** Not gonna warn because of plot twist.

.

As a Healer, Hermione had been taught to deal with the gruesome and the bloody; as a woman, she was taught to listen while her hands worked quickly and lightly. It had taken years to cultivate a form of detachment so that she could place a patient's needs before her own emotions while it had taken countless failed attempts for her to learn how to hide her emotions behind kind, brown eyes while the horror she truly felt was locked deep, deep inside her.

Many who came to her for healing were those who were close to death. She was proficient with her healing as she once was with her studies. She could look at a wound and surmise the best cause of action which could bring about the quickest healing method; whether or not that method caused unbearable pain to those who already suffered was another matter.

Hermione Granger was good at her job and was increasingly grateful that not one of the many people she knew had ever been brought to her. She was the best when it came to Healers who could bring victims back from the brink of death. She never wanted to see a familiar face while doing what she did best.

* * *

She was briefed of his condition mere moments before she entered the exam room where he had already been taken. The Junior Healers who apprenticed under her worked quickly as they prepared him, while a Senior Healer spoke of the facts in a short, clipped tone, as she had been trained to do.

_Male. Mid-thirties. Prisoner of Azkaban. Found unconscious after an altercation with two other inmates. Suffered multiple beatings that were apparent by the bruising over his face and torso. Appeared to have been stabbed by a sharp edged instrument. Despite following expected procedure, the wounds have not healed. Suspected of poison. _

The exam room was a rush of hurried motions and curt orders as they worked tirelessly to save this man's life. Her eyes were only for the two stab wounds; one on his arm and the other at his side. Her ministrations were quick, but no less effective than it could have been. Moments later, she let out a low breath of relief when his vitals seemed almost normal and his chest had begun to move rhythmically. It was then that she noticed the scars on his chest.

Her brows furrowing while her gaze studied the small scars that covered his pale skin. The strokes looked deliberate and deep, but far too haphazard to have been done on purpose. She frowned further when she remembered a conversation she had had long ago, in a castle that had once been her home.

Her suspicions had already taken root in her mind before her eyes rose from his chest. It had been years since she had last cast her eyes on him, but she still recognised him almost instantly. Gone were the chiselled cheekbones that had given him the airs of a pure-blood Prince and gone were the pale blond locks that she had come to associate with him and his family. The man who laid on her table, the same man who she had formally known as a boy, had changed in the years she had not thought of him. The purple bruises across his skin did not hide his shallow cheeks or filthy state, nor did it hide how pale he had become. The swelling on his eye and his awful appearance was in conflict of her memories where a sneering teenager with tailored robes used to cause first years to run in terror. With gentle fingers she brushed aside his dirty blond strands and peered intently at the face that used to torment her. It had been so long that she had almost forgotten what he had looked like, even though she was convinced that she would never be able to forget his name.

Against her will, her heart skipped a beat for Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Part of her duties as Head Healer was to make her rounds at night. It was a tedious job that she could never hate. As her young self once was, Hermione thrived on ensuring that everything was to the letter and she and her institution were completely un-blameworthy. She might have been one of the strictest when it came to following the rules, but she hardly expected to be the only one.

She started her rounds the way she did every night. At precisely 8.00p.m. she began with the patients who were to be found in the maternity ward, followed closely by those who had been admitted with mild injuries only to end her evaluation with the most critical of patients. As she had done nearly every night of her career, Hermione stopped by each bed that housed a sometimes sleeping or most of the time unconscious patient and checked every chart while making a mental note of their progress.

She left her childhood nemesis for last.

Once she stood outside the room that housed Draco Malfoy, prisoner of Azkaban – as she reminded herself – Hermione decided that she couldn't avoid his examination any longer. It was more for necessity than want that she closed the door behind her once she entered the room. She had rather fulfil her obligations without having two Aurors so close behind. At least, that was what she told herself. The fact that the two guards stationed outside his room allowed her to close the door and stay alone with the patient met her suspicions that they didn't quite see their charge as a threat.

The truth was that she was curious. She hadn't heard of, or thought of the person who had bullied her all those years ago. She distinctly remembered the happiness Ron and Harry had expressed when Malfoy had been arrested after the war for his role in the Final Battle. Hermione hadn't had an opinion at the matter, at the time. She always thought that he was a mean boy who was put in an unfortunate position. She couldn't help but blame his parents and his lifestyle for the poor decisions he had made.

Hermione stepped closer to the bed and started her cursory inspection of the patient that had been cleaned, prepped and on his way to recovery. Gently pulling aside the blanket, her hands moved deftly with practiced movements as she unbuttoned the hospital gown he wore. She noticed with some satisfaction that the swelling on his features had gone down. The ugly welts that had coloured his skin were no more and he looked to be healing nicely. The only thing that caused her to frown was the visible scars on his skin.

Without thought, she looked towards his left arm, only to be disappointed when she noticed his arm lying face down beside him. It had been years since she had seen the Dark Mark. Casting an apprehensive look towards his sleeping form, she touched his fingers lightly to check the possibility of a reaction. When he didn't stir, she became bolder and slipped her fingers under his wrist and turned over his arm gently.

Hermione had heard about how the Dark Mark faded when Voldemort had been weakened the first time he had tried to kill Harry and therefore expected to see a faded mark on Malfoy's skin. Instead, she was met with a scar; one that she could easily make out the Dark Mark with. Suddenly interested, she bent closer towards the marked forearm as her index finger lightly traced the indentation of skin.

While she traced the skull, she thought of the first time she had ever seen that mark as it danced in the sky after the victory of the Quidditch World Cup. While her finger traced the snake, she thought of Nagini and the way it had attacked her while she and Harry had been at Godric's Hollow only to be followed by a long forgotten memory of Professor Snape's final moments.

She watched him for a moment with extreme affection, before she found herself pulling out her wand and aiming it at his heart.

She whispered the spell softly, but not without hesitation, and watched as the green light hit his skin and he ceased to breathe. She pocketed her wand and placed a light kiss on his forehead, her mind focusing on the memory of how he had grabbed her hand and whispered three simple words as he was wheeled away from her.

_Kill me, Hermione. And forget me._

She watched him a moment longer before rubbing her eyes in an effort to dry them and placing a fake smile on her face as she left his room.

Because, once, a long time ago, she was married to this man, and the charm his father placed on her made her obedient only to him.

That was two wars ago, and yet, she felt the familiar pull as she once did all those years ago.

And once she turned the corner, her tears stopped, as she shook her head out of confusion and went back to the task at hand of making her rounds.


	90. The Fatal Flaw

**A/N: Written for hp_humpdrabbles humpathon 2014. So naturally, a little bit of smut. You have been warned.  
**

* * *

**Prompt :** _Silence__  
_

**Title:** The Fatal Flaw

**Rating:** M

**Word Count:** 498

**Warnings:** Implied torture.

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There is a buzzing noise in the background as her fingers skim the hair at the nape of his neck teasingly, while her nails lightly brush against the back of his ear.

It's not meant to be like this, slow, soft, earnest, with lazy kisses and smiles against their cheeks. It was rough once, hard and fast with gasping breaths and nails digging into skin.

But here, now, she is pliant under his fingers, gently guiding him with languid movements. He feels the way she arches against him, the way her naked skin moulds against his as he enters her slowly, taking his time as she keens for him to hurry.

He teases her by the roll of his hips, his movements becoming slower still. She moans his name, kisses becoming sloppy because she wants him to move faster.

He doesn't. He teases her, whispers the vilest things in her ear until she's gasping for breath without him having moved at all.

That's when he finally hears it…

_Silence._

He blinks rapidly at the ceiling, his chest aching, sweat on his brow as he gasps for breath. The stone is cool under him, but he rolls onto his side, hands shaking, hair falling in front of his eyes before his gaze meets the curious expression of his aunt.

He watches as she plays with her wand, her head cocking to the side before she smiles widely without any sincerity.

He had been so careful. It was only one moment that had slipped through.

He breathes deeply before he shakily gets onto his hands and knees. As he tries to get to his feet, she twitches the wand towards him and he falls onto the floor, the pain from the _cruciatus_ brief.

"A Mudblood, Draco?" his aunt sneers, the gleam in her eyes full of happiness for the chaos that she revels in. "Is that what you think about?"

"No," he gasps. He shakes his head and tries to stand once more, only to have her bring him to his knees again.

She cackles as the pain shoots through him, but stops when a quiet, "Enough, Bellatrix," is spoken by the Dark Lord.

He is then yanked up by two Death Eaters and taken to his family's dungeon, tossed unceremoniously as if he doesn't have the Mark himself.

They take his cellmate in his place, dragging her despite her struggles and her brave words. Her eyes meet his and he doesn't understand the look she gives him.

He sits stiffly, waiting for the screams that will reach him, cursing himself for having one moment of weakness when he had tried to stop his aunt from torturing Hermione Granger.

All because he has one fantasy, one _thought_.

He hears the maniacal laugh of his aunt and wonders why his stomach turns at things they so easily enjoy.

Before long, when he hears Granger's sobs too clearly, he closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and finds himself praying for silence once again.

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**A/N2: I have found myself been pulled away from this pairing, and even from this fandom during the past few months. It's the sort of feeling you get once you think you've written all the stories you could possibly want to tell and there's nothing more to say. So, just in case this selection of stories is never updated again, I just wanted to say thank you so much to everyone who ever took the time to review, favourite and follow. It means the world to me that there are people out there who actually enjoy the silly stories I write for my enjoyment. **

**I might do a Christmas Gift Giveaway this December as a thank you for having the patience to read 90 chapters. But for now, thank you again. Without your encouragement, I might have stopped a long time ago.  
**


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